


Holidays

by Blankfreeze1958



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Beautiful Golden Fools, F/M, Holidays, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:27:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 72,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21805153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blankfreeze1958/pseuds/Blankfreeze1958
Summary: Tywin arranges a trip for the whole family over the holidays
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Robert Baratheon/Cersei Lannister
Comments: 123
Kudos: 174





	1. Coming Together

**Author's Note:**

> needed to write some holiday things

"Oh, Jaime, please." 

He was pressed against her back, his hand in her pants, squeezed between her and wall he'd pressed her against as rubbed fast circles on her clit. His other hand grasped her breast, massaging it roughly, trying to feel her nipple through all the layers that separated them. 

She wanted to come... She _needed_ to come. It had been so long since she'd had a release, and Jaime wanted desperately to be the one to give it to her. 

Sure, he'd rather have taken his time, teased her and made her squirm. He'd rather it be his cock drawing those sounds from her than his hand, but the most important thing was her pleasure, and if she needed him to get her off in the maybe-five minutes the kids were out in the yard with Robert, then that's what he would do. She'd chosen him over her vibrator, and that alone made him swell with pride, made up for how rushed this was. 

They were in the basement of their father’s estate. Cersei had been trying to clean up after the kids before they left for the King’s Landing’s annual Christmas Parade, so toys were scattered across the floor around them. 

He was hard against her ass and couldn't help grinding his hips against her sporadically as she humped his hand.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." She moaned, aggravated. She was so close. Jaime could tell by the way she'd lost control of the rhythm, and the wetness between her thighs. 

"Come for me." He whispered in her ear. "You're so perfect, Cersei. Come for me." He kissed her neck. 

Cersei gasped, her legs beginning to tremble, and a soft moan gracing her lips, but they heard someone in the hall and bolted apart as quickly as they could. 

Jaime ran into the bathroom, trying to conceal his hard on.

"Cersei, I can't fucking handle them. Go take care of your children, woman!" Robert shouted, pinching the bridge of his nose and falling on the couch.

Jaime heard Cersei's sigh from the bathroom.  It had been so bloody long since they’d had any alone time - _three months_ to be exact, and it was driving Jaime mad. 

There'd been one engagement or another, a business trip or a school concert, too much of Robert and too little of Jaime. There just hadn't been time for them, and as a result, the twins were _ravenous_ for each other. 

"A father is supposed to discipline his children when they misbehave." Cersei hissed, especially annoyed that it had been _Robert_ that had interrupted them. 

Jaime splashed some water on his face, trying to cool himself down. Gods it was painful. He wanted her so badly. At least if he could have made her come it would have been worth something, but he imagined she was just more frustrated now, having been _so close_ only to be interrupted by her brute of a husband.

“It’s time to go anyway, get up.” She huffed at Robert. Jaime heard her heels clicking away up the stairs.

* * *

"It's fucking cold." Cersei mumbled out of the corner of her mouth. The air turned her breath into a ghost and Jaime stifled a smile at her indignation. Only for her family would Cersei brave these crowds, these temperatures. 

The whole Lannister-Boratheon pride was gathered out on the roped-off sidewalk, making their yearly appearance at the Christmas Parade. 

It was frigid this year, much more so than in years past, and they were clad head to toe in the warmest garments their plentiful money could buy. 

Little Tommen and Myrcella stood just by the chains that separated them from the commoners, and they watched the ornately decorated floats pass by in awe. Their brother, Joffrey, stood off to the side, too old to care about the floats, and too young to _pretend_ he cared. He played games on his phone with the heat-sensitive gloves his mother had bought just for this occasion. 

Jaime stood between Cersei and Tywin. Tyrion stood on the other side of their father. Jaime kept stealing glances at his sister. She looked _cute._

It wasn't a word many would use to describe Cersei, he knew, and nor would she approve of it as a descriptor. It was a word far too unassuming for her. But all bundled up in her parka and scarf with her rosy cheeks and red nose and her knit hat, and all the vulgar words she couldn't seem to contain at her displeasure, just made everything she did so bloody _cute._

Had half of King's Landing not had their eyes on them, Jaime might have reached behind her to run his hand across her back. He might’ve pulled her into his jacket to hold her close, keep her warm. Even with Robert standing on the other side of her, Jaime would dare. But not in front of everyone else. He could kill Robert but he couldn't take the whole of King's Landing. Not all at once, anyway. Though he would, he thought, cocking his head as he let the idea wash over him. He would kill them all for her. And given how hard it had been to get any bloody time alone with her, coupled with her little sniffles and annoyed sighs next to him, the idea was especially tempting. 

"We hope everyone's been good! Santa will be coming shortly!" One of the speakers broadcast to the crowd, who went wild. 

"Fuck Santa." Cersei hissed.

Jaime snorted, earning him a glare from his father. 

"Uncle Jaime, up!" 

Tommen had come over and was pulling on Jaime's pant leg now, his arms stretched up as far as they would go.  Jaime lifted the boy into his arms, feeling prideful that it had been him and not Robert that the little cub had come to. 

“Mummy, is Santa going to come to our house? I’ve been really good!” Tommen shouted so his mother could hear him over the crowd. 

Cersei turned to him and held his face in her mittened hands as she kissed his forehead. Jaime looked on somewhat jealously at her affections as he held Tommen tight to his chest. 

“He will, my sweet boy.” Cersei smiled, all her bitterness about the event washed away in an instant at the sight of her son’s bright emerald eyes, so full of wonder. 

“Will he bring us presents?” Myrcella asked, now standing at her mother’s feet, looking up. 

Cersei fixed Myrcella’s hat, pulling it more snugly on her head, making sure she was keeping warm.  “Yes, darling.” She smiled. “I believe he will.” 

“Will he bring me a present?” Jaime chimed, grinning at his sister. 

Cersei rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide the smirk that crept across her face. “I suppose he might bring you one as well, if you’re good.” She reasoned, looking down at Myrcella, smoothing out her coat, even as she spoke to Jaime. 

Jaime grinned and Tommen looked up to him.  “Santa is good at choosing what you like.” He said to his uncle. 

“I bet he is.” Jaime answered, bumping Cersei’s hip. 

She waved him away, shaking her head, as Christmas music filled the air. 

“Daddy! He’s coming! Can you pick me up?” Myrcella was jumping up and down now in front of Robert, who looked unamused. He ignored his daughter. She was getting too old to be lifted, and he thought it ridiculous to do so, especially now they were in public. 

Cersei stared daggers at Robert. “She’s only _seven_.” Cersei hissed, but Robert would have none of it, and Cersei knew she’d hear about it later. 

“Here.” Jaime said, handing Tommen over to his mother. 

The little boy held on to her neck just as happily, snuggling his little body against hers. 

Cersei watched as Jaime knelt down and lifted Myrcella onto his shoulders right in front of Robert, who was practically shaking now with rage. Normally, Robert would’ve told his brother-in-law off, but again… _publicity._ One of the nation’s most prominent families must put on a good show for the crowd. Tywin would say the same. 

Cersei couldn’t help smiling, pressing her lips against Tommen’s hat to hide her glee at how disgruntled Robert was, and how lovely Jaime was. He certainly _was_ being good. 

Jaime looked to Cersei for a brief moment, searching her face for approval, and he got exactly what he was looking for when he saw her rosy-cheeked smile. He loved making his children smile, and he loved making Cersei smile. It was lucky, he supposed that one of those things was usually a catalyst for the other. 

The parade went on as planned, with Santa making his appearance, and causing children everywhere to scream with excitement. 

At the very end, Tywin, as a guest of honour for his generosity in donating a quarter of the year’s profits to charity, gave a speech about families “Coming together to be as one, to be at peace” for the holidays. Jaime rolled his eyes at the whole charade. It had been Tywin screaming at everyone just a couple of hours ago to get ready. It had been Tywin calculating the exact amount of the company profit to give away to maximize tax breaks. Jaime cared not about the yelling, the strategy. It was the fake pleasantries they were always propagating to the masses that bothered him most. 

When the speech was over and met with cheers as per usual, the family piled into a stretch limousine and headed home. In addition to the Holiday parade, it was also the annual Lannister Christmas party. Tywin was holding it a a couple of days early this year, as he’d made plans for the family to take a weeks-long trip encompassing the holidays. Joanna had loved to travel, and Tywin thought there would be no better way to honour her memory than by getting the whole family together to do what she loved best. He missed her something awful during the holidays and had high hopes for this trip. 

Upon return to Tywin’s estate where they were all staying, Cersei gathered all the children and wrapped them in blankets, having a servant bring them hot cocoa.  Jaime and Tyrion were standing around by the telly, watching football. 

“I need to speak with you.” Robert hissed, grabbing Cersei by the elbow, his grip tight, unforgiving. Cersei tensed up. 

Tyrion caught a glimpse, and Jaime whirled around, feeling his blood boil at the way that scum touched his sister. Thankfully,  Tyrion jumped in before Jaime could. 

“Gods!” Tyrion projected, commanding the attention of everyone around them. “Has anyone thought about the _drink_ for tonight? Whatever _will_ we do about a pride of _sober_ Lannisters?Brother, would you mind going out for me? I trust nobody more than you and I’m afraid I need some rest after… whatever that was.” 

Jaime looked confused for a moment as Tyrion’s face was far more serious than his words were. He nodded toward Cersei, and Jaime understood what he was trying to do; diffuse the situation before it went any further, for everyone's sake.

“Oh. Yes.” Jaime cleared his throat, trying to bury his rage. “Sister, would you help me?” 

Cersei nodded gladly, yanking her arm away from Robert, who looked even more furious than he’d been before. 

The twins hurried out of the mansion.

* * *

"Fuck!" Cersei moaned as Jaime thrust into her roughly. She held the fabric of his brown leather jacket as best she could. 

"You know this is technically a sexual offense if we get caught." Jaime huffed.

Cersei moaned again as he slid himself further inside of her.

Jaime smirked, showing his teeth. "That turns you on, doesn't it?" He asked, panting. 

"Shut up." Cersei breathed, pressing her hand over his mouth. It did, and he could tell by how wet she'd gotten. He thrust harder and her hand went to his hair, grasping tightly and pulling his head back until he let out a whimper. 

She moaned at that too, pressing forward and sucking on his neck. 

"Make me come." She ordered when she pulled away, her red manicured nails on his jaw. 

"Hmm." He moaned deeply at the way she said it. It was a _command._

" _That_ turns _you_ on, doesn't it?" She said smugly. 

Jaime laughed, a breathless huff. Yes, it did. "Let's come together, this Christmas, shall we?" He flashed his teeth. 

Cersei shook her head and groaned. "Please don't." 

Jaime laughed.

The windows of Cersei's jet black Porsche were fogged up by now by their shared heat. 

This had been their first true time alone time in three months, so the twins were absolutely ravenous for each other, and their rage and hatred for Robert only served to bolster their desires.

"Oh!" Cersei yelped as Jaime thrust as hard as he could. "More." She ordered, harshly, her voice an octave higher than normal, much to Jaime’s ever-growing delight.

He thrust into her several times, as quickly as he could and she nearly came, "yesss." She sighed, her voice dripping with want. 

"Cersei." Jaime sighed, pressing his face against her neck and breathing her in. He wanted to take his time, he'd missed her immensely. 

"Just _fuck_ me", Cersei ordered. "we haven't the time for that now."

But Jaime could not have cared less of the time, not when it was the first time he'd been _inside_ of her in months.  He reached down between them and began to tease Cersei's clit. 

"Do we have time for this?" He asked, milking the wetness from her.

Cersei leaned her head on his shoulder, her eyes flickering shut. It had been so long since she'd been touched like this. 

"Ohh." She breathed. 

"Beacause I can stop if we don't." Jaime said, pulling his fingers away and bringing them to his mouth.  Cersei grunted, agitated, and yanked his hand toward her, bringing his fingers to _her_ mouth.  Jaime watched intently, feeling the way her tongue slid over the sensitive tips.  She pulled them from her mouth with a pop and guided them back down to her center. J aime smiled and happily began rubbing her there again until her legs were around his waist, her skirt pushed up around her navel and her heels digging into his ass. 

It was cold in the car even with the heat circulating between their bodies. Outside, icy snow covered the ground.  Cersei wished they could be naked, fully bare and in her warm bed... Or better yet, Jaime's bed, where nobody would disturb them, but they were staying at their father's estate as they always did for the holidays, and privacy had proven somewhat difficult thus far. 

“He doesn’t do this for you.” It was a statement and Jaime whispered it as he drew his finger in practiced circles on her, forcing another moan. 

“He doesn’t fuck you like this. He doesn’t make you wet, he doesn’t make you-“ Cersei moaned loudly, cutting him off as he’d angled himself just the way she liked. Jaime knew it was all true and he liked and hated it all at once. He liked that Robert was nothing to her. Less than that, even. And he hated that he still had power over her. That he hurt her. Cersei swore he didn’t, but seeing the way Robert spoke to her and the way he touched her, it was hard for Jaime to believe.

Cersei's phone rang from somewhere on the floor of the car, perhaps under a seat.

Jaime groaned at the thought of someone calling her _now_. The audacity they had to interrupt them when they'd been apart for so long. It was probably Robert, making sure she'd remember his bloody ale. 

"Ignore it." She said through gritted teeth, "not-" she gasped as he fucked her as deeply as he could, "important- oh! Oh!" 

He'd ignore it alright, he thought to himself. And he'd make her ignore it too.  He pulled at her blouse, tearing the buttons from their holes and reached behind her, unclasping her black lace bra.  Jaime loved the sight of it, and he wished he had more time to properly admire her.  But then he saw her nipples, pretty and pink and perky, just waiting for him. He swirled his tongue over one and then took it into his mouth sucking on her as he twisted the other one, his free hand on the curve of her back, enjoying the way she arched her body against his. 

Cersei gave in, unable to hold her composure any longer. She melted against him, feeling the waves of her orgasm crashing over her. 

The way she throbbed forced Jaime to come, pressing his face back against her neck as he groaned, inhaling her scent as he sputtered out a gasp, fully wrecked by her. Gods, how had they gone _so_ long without each other? 

They waited a moment before moving, before letting go, until Cersei's phone rang again. J aime sighed, pushing himself back and cleaning up.

"You ok?" He asked as she buttoned her blouse back up. 

"Watch the buttons next time." She said, though truly she hadn't minded it at all. She leaned down and retrieved her phone from under the passenger seat. Two missed calls from Robert. She didn't say anything to Jaime and so he knew that's who it had been. 

When they were finally settled, alcohol purchased, Jaime took the wheel and they began the short drive home.  On the way, he couldn’t help himself from reaching out and closing his hand around hers as she rested it on her thigh. 

"Jaime." She warned, pulling her hand away. 

He sighed, taking his hand back as well. 

Cersei had been very clear with him. They were allowed to _fuck_. Nothing else. She wanted his cock, his children, but she did not want him - or so she said. It was too painful because as soon as he reminded her what she was missing, it was all she could think of, and nothing she could have; not truly.  Jaime, however, saw it quite differently. He wanted to make the most of their time together. He wanted more, and he always would. 

"What about those pictures you sent me?" He asked. They were burned into his memory as all her pictures were. She’d _missed_ him. Not just his cock. _Him._

"Yes, why don't you look at those instead." 

"Cersei..." 

"We've already spoken on this." She said quietly. 

"I want you." Jaime said, not taking his eyes off the road. 

"You've had me. Just now." She huffed. 

"No. I want _more_ than that. You know that. It's never been just that."

Cersei turned away from him, looking out the window as freezing rain began to fall, decorating the glass in front of her and blurring the many colorful holiday lights they drove past. 

Jaime bit his lip. He _hated_ silence. He bloody hated it. 

"Please." He said, decidedly not above begging. He reached out again, running his hand gently up her thigh, resting it just under the hem of her skirt and caressing her leg with this thumb. 

Cersei said not a word, but she didn't pull away. She didn’t push him away. Jaime was satisfied with this. For now.  They arrived home and the twins carried their haul into the kitchen where a few hired chefs were preparing hors d’oeuvres. 

“Mummy!” Myrcella shouted, her bare feet slapping the white marble of the floor. “Look at what Lilly did!” 

Lilly was the girl’s pet hermit crab that she’d won at a school fair. Cersei rather disliked the creature, and worried that it would pinch her sweet daughter, but it just made Myrcella so happy that Cersei generally kept her mouth shut at her distaste. 

The crab had climbed to the top of its cage, holding onto the plastic bars with its great crustacean legs. Cersei wondered how hermit crabs would taste if you boiled them. 

“Wow!” Cersei pretended to marvel at the ugly creature, nodding. 

“She’s climbed all the way up there, all on her own! Uncle Jaime, look!” 

“All the way up there?” Jaime gasped, jumping backward as if in shock. Myrcella giggled, much to Cersei’s delight. 

“I’m going to wait and see if she can get down on her own.” Myrcella said, turning and leaving the kitchen, pleased with the reactions her beloved crab had earned. 

“I’m just going to put these in the wine cellar.” Cersei said, taking a few bottles under her arms and carrying them away. 

Jaime continued stocking the fridge until he heard heavy footsteps. He turned to see who’d joined him. 

“Kingslayer.” Robert boomed. It was a nickname Robert had dubbed him after a particularly brutal game of poker with a potential client after a business dinner. Jaime had taken the client for all he had, beating his kings with a flush. The client had been a sore sport, and withdrew his offer, much to Tywin’s chagrin. Robert loved to remind Jaime of how he’d fucked the whole deal up. He loved to remind Jaime of _any_ time he fucked up, the bastard. 

Jaime rolled his eyes. “Hello, Robert.” He sighed. 

“D’you happen to have my ale?” He asked. “Could use a bottle, those kids’ve been runnin’ me into the ground.”

“Ale?” Jaime asked, pretending this had been the first he’d heard of it. Robert had texted Cersei to remind her _at least_ eight times after they’d left. Not to mention the phone calls. 

Robert’s face contorted. “That _bloody_ woman.” He seethed. “I swear she has it out for me Kingslayer, I swear it to the Gods…” Robert wrung his hands as Jaime pulled the ale out of the brown paper bag and set it on the table with a crisp clank. 

Robert’s face flushed red. He grabbed it and set off, back to his spot in front of the television, mumbling something about _those bloody Lannisters._

Cersei came back into the kitchen with Tommen. The boy was _holding her hand._ Jaime couldn't help but smile at their sweet boy. He was more gentle than his sister, even. 

"Mummy!" The boy squeaked to a stop, holding his hands up to her, signaling that he wanted to be lifted up. Tommen was nearly four years old now, and the gentle boy followed his mother around like a shadow most of the time. 

"Mummy can I please stay up tonight?" He asked as Cersei hoisted him up onto her hip. 

"You'll be up for a bit of the party, love.” She cooed, fixing his hair, “If you're good, maybe Santa will even come visit you personally."

She swung him around with a soft grunt and sat him on the counter. Jaime watched as she held their son's face in her hands. 

"But it's almost Christmas! He’ll be busy!" Tommen pointed out, exposing the flaw in his mother's logic. 

"Sometimes he makes visits before, just for the children who've been _extra_ good. He’s in town, you saw him earlier. I’m sure he’s staying for dinner.”

Jaime smiled at the thought of it; Cersei being _silly_. 

She stood up straight and turned to her brother. 

"He visited your uncles and I when we were young."

Tommen looked at his uncle Jaime for validation, and Jaime nodded. "He did."

Tommen clapped his chubby little hands together and Jaime admired the gleam in his sister's eye at the happiness of their baby boy. 

"Cookies?" He asked. 

Cersei nodded, laughing and kissing the crown of Tommen's head. 

"Uncle Jaime will help you make cookies." She said, looking at Jaime who flinched. 

"You remember, like mother made when we were little?" 

"Of course I remember." Jaime said surely. "We got this, right?" He asked, winking at Tommen. 

Tommen nodded and reached for his uncle, who scooped him up and held him up to the cabinet to get the flour. Cersei smiled and went to relax a bit before they had to get ready for the party. 

She'd just settled into an armchair for a quick cat nap when Tommen came rushing in. 

"Mummy! Help!" He ran to her and pulled at her fingers. "Hurry!"

Cersei followed her son back into the kitchen, afraid of what she would find. 

"Tommen, I told you we can do this on our own!" Jaime exclaimed, flour flecked on his cheeks. “Out!” He motioned at Cersei, flinging some of the flour on his hand as he did.

Cersei laughed, a glorious, deep laugh that Jaime hadn't heard in a long time. 

"We're fine." He said, trying to sound serious as a smile spread across his face. 

"Move." Cersei ordered, approaching him until she stood with him over the watery concoction he'd made. 

"Not a chance!" Jaime pushed her away with his hip. “Tommen and I are master chefs. We don’t need help.” He winked at Tommen. 

"You need more flour, is what you need.” Cersei told him shaking her head and reaching for the bag of it. 

"Tommen, sweetheart, go tell your brother and sister to start getting showered and ready for the party I’ll let you know when these are properly fixed." Cersei said as Jaime yanked the bowl away just as she'd begun to pour the flour. 

She couldn’t help the giggle that slipped from her lips and Jaime hid his own laughter. 

Tommen smiled brightly as he watched the two adults. He never got to see his mother _this_ silly, and father certainly never joked with her the way uncle Jaime did. 

He stood there still as he watched Jaime try to stir the mixture while his mother leaned over, trying her best to grab the spoon from his hand. She grabbed Jaime’s arm in an effort to balance herself and he let go of the spoon to hold her waist so she wouldn't fall. 

Cersei seized the opportunity to pour more flour into the bowl, causing the dust of it to kick up and coat Jaime's face even more.  She giggled again when he looked back at her, and he couldn't help but laugh too.  She began to stir the mixture, but Jaime opened his hands and blew into them, causing flour to get all over her face as well.  Jaime laughed still, but Cersei found this less amusing. She took the spoon and flung a bit of the batter at his face. 

"Oh, really?" He asked, licking it from his lips. "that's how you wanna go?" 

Cersei flung more batter at him, bursting into laughter. 

"Sister." Jaime said seriously as she flung more at him, spattering his face. 

"All right." Jaime sighed, lunging for her. Cersei squeaked and turned, attempting to flee but Jaime caught her, wrapping his hands around her waist and lifting her off the ground, her back toward him. She kicked her legs in an effort to get him to release her but he was too strong. He set her down and spun her around, pressing her back against the fridge. 

"Give me a hug, sister, I've missed you so!" Jaime laughed, moving close. 

Cersei flinched away but Jaime had her trapped there and she squealed as he ran his cheek across hers, raw batter and flour on their cheeks, between them now. 

"One more." Jaime said giddily as he coated her other cheek with the sticky mixture, ticking her and making her squirm and yelp as he did so. 

It was just like when they'd been children and Jaime missed it dearly.  He pressed her there against the fridge and for a moment, all they could do was look at each other, green eyes on green eyes. 

He _almost_ kissed her. He _almost_ did, and she'd _wanted_ him to. 

Their lips, dusted with flour and batter, hovered just over one another. It would've been so very easy. But they each knew that if there were a kiss, even just one, it would turn into more. They would have each other, all flour dust and raw batter and all, right there in the kitchen of their father’s house. And so, with all this in mind, they hesitated just long enough to spark a question from a little voice in the corner. 

"Mummy?" It piped up, innocently. 


	2. Fucking Holidays

Cersei pushed Jaime off of her immediately, and Jaime complied, letting her arms go. 

"Tommen, sweetling, I thought I told you to go find your brother and sister." Cersei said, her voice shaky.

Tommen nodded. "but I wanted to see if we could fix the cookies."

It frightened Cersei how caught up in themselves she and Jaime had been. That could have been it. They would not have been able to explain that away. 

Jaime wiped his face off on his arm and Cersei got a napkin for the same purpose. 

"We'll fix them, darling, and I'll call you when they're ready."

Tommen nodded and ran off, curious about his mother and uncle. It had looked rather fun, what they'd been up to.

Cersei spared not another glance at her brother as she went about fixing the batter. Jaime stood there watching her, wanting to say something, wanting her to say _anything._ Instead, Cersei completely ignored him. He hovered just behind her, his hand open as he tried to work up the courage to touch the small of her back, to reassure her that they were ok. 

When he finally did, she jumped at the contact. 

"Please, Jaime, leave." She said quietly. 

Jaime hung his head and left to shower. He’d just wanted to make her laugh. It had been so lovely a thing to hear. He just wanted to be with her.

* * *

Cersei was able to fix the cookies, much to the delight of her children. Jaime helped them decorate when he'd finished showering, and Cersei had gone off to get ready and get bags packed in order to leave for their trip. Tywin had somewhat optimistically booked flights for the very next afternoon, so, because it was expected to be a lively night, everyone was to be packed and ready to leave in order to be on time for the flight the next day. 

"Uncle Jaime, were you and mummy having a food fight?" Tommen asked as he frosted his cookie. 

Jaime shook his head and rubbed the boy's back. "No, bud. We were just trying to figure out the recipe and ended up being a bit silly. Did you think it was funny?"

Tommen laughed and nodded and Myrcella looked up from her cookie, cocking her head. Joffrey was uninterested, too busy with squirting frosting directly into his mouth. 

"Uncle Jaime, mummy is sad I think." Myrcella said quietly. 

"Why do you think that, princess?" Jaime asked the little girl who looked up at him with her big green eyes. 

"I saw her crying." 

"When?"

Myrcella shrugged. "Just... Sometimes."

Jaime bit his lip. He knew Cersei had a lot to handle, dealing with Robert and all, but perhaps he'd underestimated the extent of her unhappiness. 

Tommen looked at Myrcella. "Mummy was laughing today!" He tried to reassure her. "She wasn't sad, right, uncle Jaime?"

Jaime nodded, slightly distracted. How often had Cersei been crying if Myrcella had seen her more than once?

"But everyone is sad sometimes, guys, even your mother." Jaime said then, clearing his throat and stroking Myrcella's hair. "You know what you can do when you think she's sad?" 

Myrcella nodded. "Give her a hug." 

Jaime nodded back. "I think that would help her a lot."

Joffrey huffed and rolled his eyes, and Jaime looked straight at him.

"And if you think maybe that won't help, you can always talk to her about it. And you can talk to me too. Understand?" 

Myrcella and Tommen nodded. Joffrey took a bite of his cookie. 

"Whatever." He mumbled, slinking off. 

* * *

Later that evening, guests began to arrive at the estate, one car after another. 

Aunt Lynna and her husband Fred, cousin Alister and his family, great aunt Reyna and cousin Lancel and uncle Gerard, and more and more until the rooms were buzzing with Lannisters and their families, the children scampering around at their feet. 

Jaime stood at the buffet, decked out with every fixing imaginable. He sipped on his wine and nodded at whomever might pass by as he surveyed the room for someone he actually wanted to speak to. _Where was Cersei?_

"Faaaather Christmas is coming!" Tyrion called as he sauntered over to Jaime, glass of ale in hand. 

Jaime rolled his eyes. 

Tyrion wore a simple green collared shirt with grey trousers and black dress shoes. Jaime had always admired his brother's ability to make dressing down look like dressing up. 

Jaime didn't particularly enjoy dressing up, though he knew Cersei admired him in his fine clothes, and that made him happy. It made him want to do it. Tonight, he wore a white dress shirt covered with a red cardigan and some dark pants. 

"The children will love it, I'm sure." Tyrion laughed, leaning on the dinner table. "though, I do think Robert might more closely resemble the jolly man... Physically, anyway."

Jaime cracked a smile. 

"How are you, brother?" He asked. 

Jaime shrugged. "Fine. And you?"

"Fine?" Tyrion asked. "Oh come, come. Give me more than that! How is working for father? I've heard you've been on a few trips of late." 

Jaime nodded. "It's nothing. Boring. Went to Russia the other week for some meeting."

"How was it?” Tyrion asked, just as Jaime turned his attention to the door. He watched as Cersei walked in, carrying Tommen on her hip. 

Gods, she was perfection.

She wore a tight green dress with a scoop neck and black pantyhose with black heels. 

Tommen looked like a little golden angel in her arms in his plaid collar poking out of his knit sweater.

Cersei's hair was half down, flowing over her shoulders and cinched with clip in the back. Jaime imagined it flung over his shoulders as she mounted him. He wanted her something awful.

"I've heard lots of the women there have purple hair." Tyrion chuckled, looking up at Jaime and realising that he was being largely ignored. 

Jaime watched his sister mingle with family members she likely didn't even know - he certainly didn't know a great many people there, and he was unconcerned with knowing them at all.  And so, when Jaime saw his sister walk quietly into their father's dark study, he followed her.  She was sitting on the leather sofa, looking out the window at the dark night. It was snowing a bit. Not much, but a bit. 

"Cersei." He said as he entered the room, not wanting to startle her.

She turned to him, glass of wine in hand, and took a sip. He watched the way her head tipped back, exposing her neck, and making Jaime shudder. 

"Over the party already?" He asked. 

She took another sip of wine. "You were over it before it even started."

He shrugged. She was right. 

"I'm sorry for earlier." He said. "I didn't know Tommen... Was there"

Cersei nodded. She wasn't yelling at him, which was a good sign, if not slightly out of character. 

Jaime stood there, unsure what to do with himself. He wanted to sit with her but he didn't want to push it. 

"We'd better get back to the party." Cersei sighed, standing and smoothing her dress out. She’d wanted to be alone. 

She walked by Jaime and he could smell the lavender on her. 

"Cersei." He choked out as she made for the door, Christmas music thrumming through the walls.

She turned to look back at him and had Jaime been sure she'd want it, he'd have taken her right then and there, up against the wall as the party continued on without them. 

Instead, he worked up the courage to say brokenly, "You are so beautiful." 

Jaime looked down at his hands almost immediately after he'd said it. They were shaking, saddled with the burden of _not_ touching her, as they so often were. 

Jaime thought he saw his sister's lip quiver, but she turned too quickly for him to truly be able to tell. 

He listened to the sound of her heels as they clacked back to the party. 

Jaime stayed there for a while longer, knowing she'd want him to. _Can’t be too careful_ , he supposed as he pulled out his phone and went to his saved photos, pulling up the ones he'd taken in early autumn, before things had gotten so busy. They'd taken the kids apple picking together. He loved looking back on those pictures. He smiled as he scrolled through; a picture of Cersei holding Tommen up so he could reach an apple, a picture of Cersei holding Tommen on a hayride and whispering something in his ear that made him beam. There was a picture of Cersei with her arm around Joffrey as they waited in line for donuts, a picture of the kids climbing a tree, a picture of Cersei biting into her donut, her eyes gleaming and _happy._ She'd been happy that day. _She was happy, wasn't she?_

Jaime chuckled as he found his favourite one; they'd all taken a selfie together, even Joff had gotten in on it. They were all making silly faces. Gods, he wished it could always be that way. 

He smiled at the photo for a moment before he continued scrolling, reaching the pictures she'd sent him the other week while he was away for work. He stared at them for a moment before forcing himself to look away. He went back to their conversation from that day instead.

**Cersei:** _Myrcella said she misses you._

**Jaime:** _Hey. I tell her I miss her, too. And I miss her mom. Are you alright?_

**Cersei:** _How is Russia?_

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Jaime that she’d ignored his question. In fact, he’d figured she would, seemingly averse to any sort of concern he might show for her wellbeing _._

**Jaime:** _Cold. How is home?_

**Cersei:** _Cold. I wish you could keep me warm._

**Jaime:** _Fuck, I would love to. I wish you were here. You'd like it._

**Cersei:** _Come home._

**Jaime:** _As soon as I'm done here I'm coming straight home to you, I promise. And we’ll have a whole trip together._

**Cersei:** _I want you._

Jaime had actually been quite surprised at this bit of the conversation. Cersei was not usually so straightforward with him. It served to arouse him, that she might want him as he wanted her, and that she might want him to be for her what Robert could not. That she might want him to serve her as a husband. That she might want his care as well. 

**Jaime:** _Cersei. Gods I want you too. You know I want you._

**Cersei:** _Show me_

It had been around bedtime for Jaime. He’d actually just stepped out of the shower when he’d gotten her text. He happily sent her a picture of his now erect cock under his towel. It hadn’t taken much. He did miss her greatly. Sexting had become second nature to them. They’d been doing it since before Joffrey was born. Jaime’s favourite times were when she’d call him and they’d talk each other to orgasm. 

**Jaime:** _Now you._

She sent him a picture of herself in her pink silk robe. She must’ve had the kids in bed. Jaime could see that her nipples were hard through the silk of the robe. She was sitting on her bed, and Jaime admired the way her hips looked, and how smooth her legs were. He imagined kissing his way up them, smelling the lavender oil he knew was on them as he nuzzled her soft skin. 

_**Jaime:** You're so perfect Cersei. Can I please call you? _

_**Cersei:** Not now.  _

_**Jaime:** Will you send me another picture? _

_**Cersei:** You first  _

Jaime had begun to touch himself, doing his best to pretend that it was her. He looked at the picture and wished he could see her face. He imagined kissing her and then working his way down her neck to suck at her nipples. 

He sent her a picture holding his throbbing manhood.

_**Jaime:** Now you. _

The picture that Cersei sent made Jaime whimper as soon as he opened it. She had her robe pulled to the side, exposing one breast, her nipple swollen as though she’d pinched it - and he would have bet money that she had. He knew she liked when he did that to her. 

With her free hand, she pulled at the bottom of her robe as though she wanted it off. He could see the pink lace of her panties peeking out from underneath. Gods, he wished he could touch her.

_**Cersei:** Tell me what you would do to me. _

_**Jaime:** Anything you’d want, Cersei. Anything.  _

_**Cersei:** I need you to tell me  _

_**Jaime:** For starters, I would tear that robe off and kiss you all over until I was between your legs and then I would kiss you there until you were shaking and begging for me inside of you.  _

_**Cersei:** What else? _

**Jaime:** _Are you touching yourself?_

**Cersei:** _Please Jaime._

**Jaime:** _Let me see._

Cersei sent him a picture of her, panties pushed to the side now as her fingers brushed her clit. She was so pretty. Just… All of her was _so_ pretty and pink and soft and lovely. He longed for her. He wanted to be buried deep inside of her, his face pressed to her neck, her scent in his lungs, her hair on his shoulder, her skin on his skin. He touched himself and it wasn’t as difficult as it normally was. When he could look at pictures of her it helped. 

**Jaime:** _Oh Cers I love you._

He'd not gotten a text back after the 'I love you'. 

He’d known when he’d sent it that it wasn’t a good idea, but he had to. She had to know. He needed to her know. It wasn’t what she wanted. She was too afraid of the hurt it might cause to dive into those feelings with him, but he cared not. He hurt all the time anyway. At least this way they could pretend for a while - pretend that they might be together some day. 

The exchange was just so very… _Them_. She’d texted him asking for something and he’d given her what she’d asked for, as he’d always done, and when he gave her more, gave her what she truly _wanted,_ she’d completely shut down, afraid of it. Jaime laughed at the thought. 

He found himself aroused now, looking at the pictures of her again. She’d kill him if she knew he had them saved. Or perhaps not. He somehow suspected that she must’ve known he’d save them. He ran his hand through his hair and allowed himself some time to collect his thoughts before working his way back to the party. She was too much to think about sometimes. 

* * *

The party went on rather uneventfully until it was time for Father Christmas. Tywin had hired an actor to come and play the part for the children. 

Just as the man was set to make an appearance, Jaime heard shouting from the opposite end of the room. 

"She's fucking old enough to know! Gods, woman look what you make me do!" 

Jaime could hardly see through the crowd of people, but he knew by the voice that it had been Robert. And Robert would only speak that way in front of so many people when he was hopelessly drunk.

There was a bit of a commotion, a small crowd gathered, and a few women gasping as Jaime hurried over. He heard Tommen's cry suddenly above everything. 

Jaime pushed his way through the wall of Lannisters to see Robert, barely able to keep himself upright, pulling the actor's bag away from him. 

"Go ahead! Tell them. Look my daughter in the eyes and tell her the truth! This bloody woman would have me coddle them their whole lives." He motioned at Cersei. "They deserve to know!"

Cersei held Tommen in her arms, her hand on his head, pressing him against her chest tightly so he wouldn't see his father this way. He could still _hear,_ though. And little Myrcella, the sweet thing, was holding on to her mother's stalkings, bawling, pressing her face against Cersei's leg. 

The actor was struggling against Robert, trying to pull his bag away, to keep his costume hidden. 

Cersei said not a word to her sorry excuse for a husband, and instead, she excused herself and her children from the circle, one hand on Myrcella's back now as she carried Tommen. 

The crowd parted to let her through and she exited with her head held high just as Tywin strolled in to see what the commotion was about. He'd been having a cigar just outside with a few other Lannister men when he'd heard the commotion. 

Jaime, however, barely paid him any mind. His eyes were on Robert. 

He was about to charge at the drunken fool when Tywin interrupted, holding his hand in the air. 

"What's the meaning of this?" He asked, and Robert let the frightened would-be-Santa go, looking like a scared child now that daddy had come to scold him. 

But he didn’t scold him. Tywin merely waved the crowd away. 

“Alright, nothing to see. Carry on. I believe there’s more wine to be drunk but Robert’s probably had all the ale.” 

His little jest earned him a couple of laughs, and served to diffuse the situation, as his presence always did. 

Jaime’s fists were balled up tightly. 

“He really is a fucking _bastard_ , isn’t he?” 

Jaime looked down to see Tyrion now, beside him. 

Jaime nodded, his rage palpable. 

“Easy, brother. He’s not worth your trouble. Look at him. He’s made more of a fool of himself in five minutes than I have at all the Lannister gatherings since I’ve been old enough to speak.”

Jaime gave Tyrion a curt nod. It wasn’t Robert that Jaime was worried about. 

Jaime scanned the room and found Joffrey sitting up in the red velvet armchair on the small platform stage that had been erected at the edge of the hall for the now long-forgotten Santa. 

“Must be hard for him.” Tyrion said somberly as he tracked Jaime’s gaze. “Were he not such a little troll perhaps I’d offer him some guidance on how to deal with a family who mostly disappoints you.” 

Jaime huffed and grabbed the glass of gin Tyrion was holding swiftly from his hand. Tyrion barely had time to express his grievance at it, before Jaime’d downed it and slipped the empty glass back into his brother’s hand. 

Tyrion sighed. “I suppose you’ll need it more than I.” He said as Jaime set off to talk to Joffrey, while a few servants helped Robert make as graceful an exit from the party as was possible given his current condition. They would take him to a guest room and leave someone there to monitor him. 

“Hey.” Jaime said, sitting down criss-cross on the floor of the stage next to the armchair. 

“Mh.” Hummed Joffrey, not looking up from his phone. 

This was hard for Jaime. Not only was he dealing with a boy entering his angst-ridden preteen years, but he also had to pretend that he didn’t bloody hate Robert’s guts, and that he was the boy’s _actual_ father. Not sure how to address the situation Jaime asked, 

“How’re you liking the party?” 

Joffrey scoffed. “It’s great.” He mumbled. 

Jaime bit his lip. “Listen, Joff. If you ever want to talk about anything…” 

“You want to talk about my dad?” Joffrey asked, lowering his phone to look at Jaime, fire burning so intensely behind his eyes that it scared Jaime.

“I just meant-“ Jaime stuttered. 

“Did mum send you?” 

Jaime furrowed his brow. 

“I’m not some stupid, girl, alright? I don’t need to talk about my bloody _feelings._ ”

"Girls aren't stupid." Jaime said, trying his best to council the boy. "But I get it. We don't have to talk about feelings." 

Joffrey rolled his eyes. Of anyone in the family, he respected his uncle Jaime most, but even he could be annoying sometimes, always trying to play the hero, especially where his mother was concerned. 

"maybe later." Joffrey mumbled, getting up and weaving his way out of the hall. Jaime sighed, resolving to try again when the wounds weren't so fresh. 

He set off then to find his sister. She wasn’t hard to find, Jaime simply followed the sound of two crying children. 

He knocked on the door, not bothering to wait for an answer before entering; she wouldn’t be able to hear him over the sound of Tommen’s cries. 

Cersei was sitting on a leather armchair in the mudroom, holding the boy to her chest and rubbing his back as she rocked him in her arms. Myrcella was curled up in her lap crying as well, though not as hard as Tommen. 

“Hey.” Jaime said sheepishly as he entered. 

Cersei looked up from her children at Jaime with a look that hit him right in the chest. This was not the first time she’d done this, and he could tell. How many nights had she spent alone, sheltering her - their - crying children from their _supposed_ father? Jaime wished not to think of it. 

Jaime knelt by Cersei’s lap and ran his hand across his daughter’s back. 

“It’s alright, princess.” He said softly. The girl whimpered and reached out for him. 

Cersei watched him carefully as he lifted the girl into his arms. She was small still, not too old to be held. _Fuck Robert._ Jaime thought. He stroked her blonde hair the way Cersei was stroking Tommen’s back. 

Little Cella was in a green velvet dress, wanting to wear something like her mother. Jaime kissed the crown of her head. She smelled like lavender, probably from laying against Cersei. Jaime wondered if their children found as much comfort in the scent as he did. 

“It’s alright.” Jaime whispered against Myrcella’s hair, watching as Cersei stood and motioned Jaime to follow her. 

They brought the children upstairs to the room they were occupying for their stay at grandfather’s estate. 

It was a large room with two king-sized beds - one for each of them, though, Jaime could tell from the way one bed had remained meticulously made, that the children had been sleeping in the same one. 

Tommen had fallen asleep now, and Jaime marveled at how quickly it had happened; crying one minute and properly conked out the next. He allowed himself a small smile at the thought of it. 

Cersei lay him down gingerly in bed and pulled the blankets snugly over his little body, placing his stuffed kitten in his arms afterward. The boy hugged it close, even in his sleep. Cersei pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and whispered something in his ear. Jaime heard only the very end of it, “I love you baby boy.” As she climbed off the bed. 

Jaime stood there, Myrcella still in his arms, unsure what to do. He wasn’t accustomed to this. He’d missed so many bloody bed times that he felt a bit ashamed in this moment. 

Cersei moved behind him, and he could feel her pressed against his backside. She was eye level with Myrcella this way as the little girl’s head was rested on Jaime’s shoulder. 

“Alright, sweetling?” Cersei cooed, bringing her arm around to stroke Cella’s hair. 

The girl was drifting off as well, but still was able to nod gently. 

Cersei leaned in and kissed her daughter’s forehead. 

“Santa’s not coming.” Myrcella said sadly. 

Jaime felt Cersei grasp a fistful of his shirt, likely to contain her rage at Robert ruining this for her children. 

“Not tonight, my love.” Her voice was soft. “But you’re such a sweet girl. I promise you he knows that.” 

Myrcella whimpered and Cersei’s grip on Jaime’s shirt tightened further. 

“Mumma, why is daddy mad?” Even half-asleep, Myrcella asked the hard questions. 

“It’s nothing to worry about.” Cersei rubbed the little girl’s back. “Let’s get you in bed.”

The little girl was so exhausted from the ups and downs of the day that she did not protest. She didn’t even point out that she still wore her party dress. She just sighed softly and curled up with her stuffed lion. 

Jaime stepped back to allow Cersei some space. She knelt by the girl and stroked her hair until Myrcella closed her eyes for the night, her breathing soft and rhythmic, just like her brother’s. 

“I love you little cub.” She whispered, kissing Myrcella’s head. And then, “My sweet girl.”

Jaime felt like an intruder standing there. He felt as though this were something not meant for him. These bedtimes had been happening all their lives, and Jaime had hardly ever been a part of them. Cersei had known what to do and what to say to make everything better. She was so practised at it… Jaime felt useless, ignorant. 

They tiptoed out of the bedroom, closing the door behind them. Cersei made to walk away, but Jaime grabbed her wrist. 

“What happened?” He asked.

Cersei stared at the ground. She was still upset at Jaime about earlier, but she’d been grateful that he came to check on them. “He wanted to tell Myrcella that Santa isn’t real to get back at me for allowing you pick her up earlier.” Cersei said, her voice tinged with hatred. 

Jaime’s fists clenched and Cersei sighed. 

Jaime made to speak, to say something of his hatred for Robert, of his willingness to kill him for her, but she didn’t allow him the time.

“We’ll not be joining you on the trip.” Cersei said, smoothly, as though it were obvious. “It was lovely seeing you, brother.” 

“Hey - wait.” Jaime called after her as she’d already spun around and begun making her way to her room. He reached the door just as she closed it in his face. 

“Cersei.” He hissed, knocking quietly so as not to disturb the children. He could still hear the holiday music thrumming from a floor down. 

_Fucking Holidays._ Jaime thought. 


	3. Ho Ho Ho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry in advance that this chapter is so long but I didn't feel like it was right to break anywhere. Thanks to everyone for the feedback, super helpful!

It was nearly two in the morning and Jaime lay in bed unable to sleep. He'd retired to his room after Cersei had shut him out, not bidding any of his relatives goodbye. He couldn't be bothered, honestly. He hated this night. He hated Robert. He'd been staring at the ceiling for the past hour, trying to think of some way he could convince Cersei to still come on the trip. He wanted more time with her and with the children. And so, when his phone buzzed he was quick to pick it up. It could only be Cersei at this hour. 

**Cersei:** _remember when you said you wanted to come keep me warm?_

Jaime smiled to himself. She hadn't even bothered to ask if he were awake. She knew he would be. He was already getting out of bed as he texted her. 

**Jaime:** _I believe it was you asking me, sister..._

**Cersei:** _can you?_

She ignored his reminder and he smirked at that. 

**Jaime:** _Can I what?_

He could almost see Cersei rolling her eyes at him. 

**Cersei:** _Can you come now_

He laughed at her lack of punctuation. He was pushing it and he knew it, but he was already halfway to her room when he read the text so he didn't bother texting back. He figured the wait might annoy her more but he couldn't help the smile that crept across his face at the thought that he could wind her up so quickly and easily. 

Jaime opened the door to her room quietly and crept in, locking the it behind him. 

"I'm still mad at you." She whispered as he climbed into bed with her, smirk still plastered across his face. 

"I know." He whispered, his hands on her waist, pulling her against him. He wrapped her into a tight hug, moaning softly at the feeling of her against him. 

"But it's not my fault I'm so irresistible." He whispered, nibbling on her ear. 

She whacked the back of his head. 

"Jaime, I mean it. We can't keep doing this."

"Then why did you ask me here?" He questioned, squeezing her tightly as she wrapped her arms around his neck. 

"You're leaving tomorrow." She said. "Last thing the company needs is another scandal because Robert can't keep his ruddy fucking hands to himself. I just wanted to tell you that in person."

Jaime rolled his eyes. "You could've told me that via text." Sometimes he wished she wouldn't be so stubborn. She wanted him. She wanted him to hold her. He knew it. That's why she'd asked him here. Why was that so bloody hard for her to say?

"It's difficult to convey that level of urgency through text." She sighed. 

"Mm." Jaime hummed, burying his face in the crook of her neck and pressing a kiss to her there. 

"And I suppose it’s just as well because, via text, I couldn't do this." He slipped his hand under her shirt and ran it over her back. 

She sighed softly.

"Or this." Jaime whispered, pressing his lips gently to hers and moaning at the taste of her as he flicked his tongue across her lower lip.

When he pulled away she was watching him. The moonlight that shone through the window was reflected in her eyes. She looked sad.  Jaime had what Myrcella had told him about her crying stuck in the back of his mind. 

"The kids love you." Cersei said softly. "They talk about you all the time. They miss you all the time."

"I miss them, too." He said, sorrowfully. He'd liked being there for them tonight. He wanted to be there more often. 

“Come with us, Cers.” Jaime breathed, hugging her tightly, trying his best to warm her. “I’ll do whatever you need me to. If you need me to stay away, even.” He wasn’t fully sure he could do that, but if that’s what she wanted he would at least try for her.

Cersei sighed. “I can’t, Jaime. Not after tonight. Not after Robert and … whatever happened in the kitchen. It was just too dangerous. It’ll do us good to be apart.” 

He wasn’t sure if she meant it would be good for she and Robert to be apart or for she and himself, but he hoped she meant Robert, because they’d been apart for far too long. Jaime could hardly bear the thought of doing it all again. And going on a trip with father and Robert without Cersei sounded like utter torture. He would have Tyrion at least, but, still. It would be nothing without her. 

“Don’t do that to me.” He begged. 

“Jaime, stop.” She whispered. 

He pulled her close again, disliking the fact that Robert might ever have gotten to hold her this way. 

"I don't like the way he touches you." Jaime said, changing the subject as his mind fluttered with a million thoughts of her. He stroked her silken hair. She wore nothing but shorts and a nightshirt, and Jaime could feel her nipples hard against his chest. She really _was_ cold.

"Would you like him to touch me _any_ way?" She asked, and of course the answer was no, but Jaime would rather him touch her gently than whatever it was he’d seen today.

"Has he ever hurt you?” Jaime asked. 

Cersei scoffed. As if such a cretinous fiend could ever harm her. But Jaime cocked his head and waited for her answer. He was serious. 

"No." She sighed indignantly, but Jaime didn't like how she'd looked away as she answered. 

“Cersei…” He breathed "If he _ever-"_ , but she wouldn’t hear it.

“I can’t believe he ruined the night for Myrcella and Tommen.” She interrupted. She was so upset about it she could feel the tears stinging her eyes, threatening to fall. She hated that he’d had that power over her. She hated that she wasn’t able to give her children what they’d deserved because of _him._

“I’m sure we’ll find a Santa somewhere on holiday.” Jaime said, trying to help. 

“We’re not going.” Cersei reminded him. 

Jaime furrowed his brow. 

Cersei pressed against her brother, lacing one of her legs through his and resting her head on his chest. "I'm tired, Jaime."

“Ok, but-“ He began to protest, but she stopped him.

“Please.” Her voice was shaky and Jaime could tell she couldn’t do this now.

Jaime nodded. "Ok." He said softly, and he kissed her forehead and rested his hand over hers where she'd lain it on his stomach. He'd missed this more than he could say.  They were silent for a while and Jaime felt Cersei's breathing relax and then slow to an even rhythm. 

"Cersei?" He whispered, but she didn't answer. He figured she was asleep. 

"I love you." Jaime sighed, confessing it to the darkness around him. He cuddled her closer and felt her grip on his shirt tighten. He smiled to himself then, knowing that she loved him too, even if she were too stubborn to say it. Even if she pretended to be asleep when he told her. 

* * *

When Cersei awoke early the next morning to kick Jaime out of bed, he was already gone. She bit her lip, willing the sting to distract her from the loneliness of an empty bed; the absence of warmth now that his arms no longer held her. She'd thought she'd get a moment with him in the morning, at least. 

She could smell pancakes sizzling downstairs; the chef preparing breakfast. She climbed out of bed and slipped her robe on to keep warm before checking in on her children.

Joffrey had put himself to bed, and Cersei had let him, as was their custom now that he was too old for her to tuck him in. The boy wanted nothing to do with her lately, and it hurt her every time he told her to _go away._ But he looked so sweet and peaceful when he was sleeping.

When she got into Tommen and Myrcella's room, the two of them were in bed playing with their stuffies. 

"Mumma!" Tommen shouted when he saw her. Cersei's heart could've burst at how happy he'd been to see her. 

"Good morning, love." She cooed as she watched him climb off the bed and pad over to her on his bare little feet. 

She crouched down and he jumped into her arms, hugging her around the neck. It was like this every morning with him and Cersei could never tire of it. 

"Mummy, I smell pancakes." Myrcella said, smiling from the bed. Cersei nodded. 

"Shall we have some?" 

"Yes!" Tommen and Myrcella squealed. 

"Before we do, though, my little loves, I have something I need to tell you."

She carried Tommen back to the bed to join Myrcella. 

"We're going to sit out this holiday and just have our own holiday at home. Just you two and Joff and I.” She smiled, hoping they might even be excited about the idea, but she saw Myrcella's lip quiver. 

"Is it because daddy's mad at me?"

"Oh, sweetheart, no." Cersei breathed, cupping her daughters chin in her hand. "He's not mad at you, darling, he was yelling because of _me_. We had a bit of a disagreement, but it’s alright now.”

"But he wanted to tell me something and he was mad because he couldn't." She said. 

Cersei sighed. She'd hoped Cella would've just blocked the whole thing out. 

"He was angry because we had a disagreement." She repeated. "Don't worry about any of it. It's all over and it won't happen again. I promise." 

"He's not mad?" She asked, unsure. 

"No." Cersei smiled, shaking her head. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Cella nodded, seeming to accept what her mother was saying. 

"Why can't we go then?" She asked. 

"I think it'll be too much traveling. We can always take little trips on our own, no need to pack them all into one holiday." 

Myrcella chewed her lip, wishing to protest, but knowing she ought not to. 

"Pancakes?" Tommen asked brightly during the silence, looking up at his mother. Tommen was just happy to be with his mummy, no matter where they were. Cersei smiled sweetly at him and kissed his head. "Yes, love, let's get some pancakes."

The lot of them went downstairs and joined Tywin in the large kitchen. He sat by a window and sipped his coffee, eyeing Cersei seriously as the children rushed to greet him. 

“Jaime tells me you’re not coming.” He said bluntly. 

Cersei sighed as the children scampered to the breakfast bar. She was actually glad that Jaime had broken the news so she didn’t have to.

“I thought it might be too much traveling for the children.” Cersei lied. “And Robert and I have’t exactly been having the best time.” That part was most definitely not a lie. 

“Travel is good for children. It’s good to challenge them.”

Cersei rolled her eyes. She hated when her father told her how to parent, as if he knew the first thing about it. She knew from experience that he didn't. 

“And Robert will be staying here with you, then?” He asked when she didn’t respond. 

Cersei shook her head. “I haven’t told him we’re staying, but I imagine he’ll still want to go.”

Tywin nodded, his lip turning up. “Good. We'll need him. Hopefully we’ll be able to meet with a few potential clients.”

Cersei scoffed. She should have known Tywin would make this as much about business as it was about their mother. 

Tywin ignored the obvious red flags about Cersei and Robert’s marriage. He knew his daughter was generally unhappy, but he’d raised her _right_. He’d raised her to put the family name above all else, and if that meant suffering through a less than perfect marriage, he knew she would do it. 

“And whatever that little spectacle was last night… You’d better get it under control.” Tywin growled, looking over at his grandchildren to make sure they weren’t listening in. 

Cersei was about to protest, to tell her father that she couldn’t exactly monitor Robert’s alcohol consumption, when Tyrion joined them in the kitchen, clad in his red and green plaid pyjamas.

“Gods, it’s bright.” He grimaced as he joined Tommen and Myrcella at the breakfast bar, flashing them a silly face and making them both giggle. 

“He’s meant to be an asset, not a liability.” Tywin said, his steely blue eyes boring into her before he got up and walked calmly from the room, leaving Cersei there to swallow her pride along with her frustrations. She needed to be better at managing Robert. And to do that she needed to be less overt with her insurrections. Her father was right. Last night's outburst should never have happened. 

Tyrion cocked his head at Cersei from his spot by the breakfast bar. “What’s that about?” He asked as he piled his plate with pancakes and covered them with whipped cream and syrup. When he’d finished, he angled the bottle so it was upside down and squirted it directly into his mouth. 

Cersei shook her head and ignored his question. He was less mature than Tommen, even. 

Everyone had taken their seats at the table for breakfast. 

“The children and I won’t be going on the trip.” Cersei shared with Tyrion, confident now in her decision. Her father didn’t care if she or the children came. This trip was, at least predominantly, a business venture. 

“No?” Tyrion asked, slightly disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to see more of Myrcella and Tommen. He did enjoy spending time with them. Joffrey was another story. 

"Don't suppose it had anything to do with -" Tyrion was about to make a joke about Roberts behaviour the previous night when they he was interrupted by the sound of sleigh bells. 

* * *

Jaime had snuck out of the room early in the morning, untangling himself carefully from his sister so as not to wake her. She was warm now, and he smiled at that. He hoped by leaving early, he'd spare her the anxiety of worrying that someone would be awake to see him leave. He'd gone and found the actor’s bag that he’d dropped in the hall last night and changed into the Santa costume inside. Apparently the poor bastard had been so shaken up after Robert had manhandled him that he'd left without it. Jaime stuffed the stomach of the red velvet jacket with a pillow to fill himself out and wore a fake white beard with curly white hair under his Santa hat. Why he’d decided to do this was beyond him. He supposed his sister really could get him to do _anything_. He sighed as he looked at himself in the mirror. It was for their children, too. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited to see the looks on little Tommen and Myrcella’s faces when they saw him, and the look on Cersei’s as well. They’d been so disappointed and Cersei had been so heartbroken that - well he supposed he did know the reason he was doing it, after all. He loved his family and he wanted to make them happy. 

As he made his entrance into the kitchen, he rung a sleigh bell in his white-gloved hand and ho ho ho’d as best he could. He could see Tyrion in the corner nearly pissing himself in his amusement as he realised it was Jaime in the costume. Jaime thought he'd never seen Cersei's eyes grow wider than they had when she'd seen him. But he swore he could see the very beginnings of a smile on her lips. 

Tommen and Myrcella rushed around him, shouting and laughing in excitement. 

“Hold your horses!” He laughed in his best Santa voice. “I need to rest my feet in a chair. I had quite the busy night plotting my route around the city. I actually meant to make it by last night but unfortunately we got a bit caught up and I could only make it just now. I do hope that’s alright?” He asked, looking at Cersei for validation. Tommen and Myrcella looked to her as well.

Cersei smiled finally, and Jaime felt himself flush at the sight of it.

“We’re so very glad you made it, Santa.” Cersei laughed, unable to keep it in any longer.

Tommen and Myrcella squealed and climbed up on his lap together as Cersei snapped picture on her phone.

Tyrion took a few pictures for his own amusement, or perhaps for blackmail later. 

“I have heard that you two have been very very good this year. Is that right?”

The children nodded.

“Even ask mumma!” Tommen clapped. 

Santa Jaime looked up at Cersei for the fun of it.

Oh, Gods she was a sight. There was nothing that made Cersei happier than seeing her children happy, and Jaime wished he were the one taking photos of _her_ instead of vice versa. 

“It’s true, Santa. You’ve got the best of the best there.”

Tommen and Myrcella beamed. 

Jaime saw Tyrion shove some pancake into his mouth from the corner of his eye. His brother was still chuckling to himself. 

Tommen mentioned a video game that he knew Cersei’d gone through absolute hell to find, and Myrcella asked for a new sponge for her pet hermit crab. Jaime couldn’t help but laugh. 

But then the little girl leaned in close and cupped her hands around his ear. 

“Santa, what I _really_ want is for you to make my mummy happy.”

The smile was wiped straight from Jaime’s face for a moment. Cersei cocked her head, wondering what Myrcella had asked for, but Jaime played it off as cooly as he could.

He ran his hand over her back. “I’ll do everything I can.” He said to her, and the girl nodded hopefully. 

“Thank you, Santa.” She said sincerely. 

“Of course, of course.” He laughed, returning to his jolly shtick. “Now. Let’s get to the real serious matter. Where are the cookies?”

The children pulled Santa over to the pancakes instead and they played for a while, decorating pancakes like they were cookies and watching Santa devour them, and then chug down a glass of milk to top it off. They were positively delighted, and so, it went without saying, that their mother was as well. 

When Santa had to leave, the children hugged him tightly to say goodbye, and Jaime slipped outinto the back room to change back into his clothes. He’d just closed the door behind him and was about to take off the itchy white beard when he heard the door creak open and closed. 

Cersei. 

She walked straight to him and into his arms, hugging him around the neck and kissing his cheek. 

“Thank you.” She said softly, tucking her head under his chin and letting him hold her, his hands on her waist.

They stayed like that for some time, Jaime rocking her back and forth. Cersei shut her eyes, as he ran his hand over her back. 

“They were so happy.” She whispered, tearfully against him. 

Jaime disliked the pillow he wore over his stomach that separated him from her. 

“Are _you_ happy?” He asked, his hand in her hair now. 

Cersei tensed against him. “Of course.” She said, straightening up and pulling his beard down under his chin to press a kiss to his lips. 

“You were wonderful.”

That wasn’t what Jaime had meant by his question, and he was quite sure Cersei knew that, but he let it go, knowing this wasn’t the best time to bring something like this up.  Instead, he enjoyed her warmth against him, the taste of her lips. She kissed him again, deeper, this time, and he moaned, all his arousal and desire for her flooding back in an instant.  He brought his hand to her chest, running it over her skin, up her neck until he was grasping her there by her throat. Her eyes were dark now as she watched him, daring him to push further. 

“Ho ho ho.” He laughed lowly. 

She grimaced but laughed, still. “Don’t ruin it.” She said, leaning against the wall behind her and hooking a leg over his hip to bring them closer, to feel him against her.

Tyrion would have had a field day with all the jokes about _packages_. 

“Come sit on my lap.” Jaime smiled, mischievously. 

Before Cersei could protest, Jaime had pulled her down onto his lap as he fell into the armchair in the corner of the room.  She wrapped her arms around his neck again and he leaned forward, holding her hips, pressing his lips to the exposed skin of her chest and kissing her there.  She ran her hands through his hair, sighing against him as he moved up to her neck, and then her jaw. One of his hands travelled across her belly, and up to her breast, teasing her nipple until he could feel it, pressing hard against the fabric, much like his cock was against his pants. 

“Tell me what you want for Christmas.” He said, his voice gravelly in her ear. 

"You're such a pervert." She said, shaking her head, though he felt her body tremble as she leaned closer to him. 

"Oh, me?" He asked looking up at her over his fake beard. "You're the one that would fuck your _brother_ rather than Santa Claus.”

Cersei laughed again, her smile genuine as the gold of her lion necklace, and Jaime leaned in to kiss her just below it. "Not that I'm complaining." He said mumbling softly against her skin. 

She sighed against him, resting her cheek on top of his forehead, hugging him close.

He ran his hands over her back. 

"I love you, Cersei."

He felt her tense up. In her defense he _had_ been saying it a lot lately. But in some way he felt he had to make up for lost time. 

"Jaime..." She whispered. 

"Oh, like you don't love me too.” He said caustically. He knew she did. As much as she might hate it, he knew she couldn't help but love him. 

But Cersei was silent. 

"Cers." Jaime sighed, turning his head back to her chest and pressing his face between her breasts, breathing her in. 

She ran her hand along his scalp and gently through his hair, pushing off his Santa hat, and he hummed softly. He liked that.  He pressed his cheek to the warm skin on her chest, imploring her to keep going.  She did it again and he closed his eyes, his grip tightening on her. She always made him feel so good.  He wanted her to continue but she leaned down and pressed her lips to the top of his head.

"I've got to go get the kids dressed." She whispered, gripping his chin. “Goodbye, Santa." 

She stood and turned, beginning to walk away, but Jaime reached out and caught her by the hem of her robe.  Cersei turned around to face him, unamused.  Jaime stood, shedding the pillow from his abdomen and taking her by the shoulders.  He cradled the back of her head, and she leaned back against his hand.  He kissed her deeply, and his tongue found its way through her lips to meet her own.  She sighed into his mouth now like she'd been _waiting_ for this, and he slid his hand down her back, but he felt her tense again. 

“We can’t Jaime." Cersei said sadly. She wished they could. Even after everything that had happened yesterday she wished they could. “We don’t have time.” She sighed, and that was far from the only reason, but it was the one she figured he’d most readily accept.

Jaime was determined, though. If she wanted him in any way at all, he wanted to be there. "Shh." He whispered. "This is just for you."

He moved his hand down until he could pull her robe up in the back and slide his hand into her shorts and over the soft curve of her ass, his mouth on her neck now as he reached under her, stroking his fingers along the silk of her panties. 

She whimpered and her hands were on his arms now, clutching the red velvet.  He could feel her growing wet as he stroked her, reaching for her clit.  She inhaled sharply through her teeth when he touched her there. 

"Mm." Jaime moaned. 

Cersei looped her arms under his, drawing him closer.  He flattened his fingers and rubbed her clit until she was shaking against him, mewling in his arms. 

"Fuck." He groaned, taking his hand back and falling to his knees. _How was he going to do without her again?_

He pushed the fabric of her robe up her thighs and pulled her shorts down, taking her knickers with them as he knelt down and lifted her ankle, forcing her to step out of them. 

She had half a mind to push him down and take him right there, but she didn’t want to get used to the feeling of him again when they were about to part so soon.  The way he touched her, though… the way he breathed in her ear, and kissed her so gently ... he made it so _hard_.  And she made _him_ so hard. He pulled at his pants, trying to shift his erect cock into a more comfortable position.  Jaime spread her thighs, running his hands up and then down back of them, feeling her smooth skin and admiring the way her legs looked before pressing his tongue to her cunt.  He worked over her slit and then around her bud, and she hissed and clutched his hair. 

Gods he'd missed the taste of her. He could have cried at the way she bucked her hips, gripping his hair as though her life depended on it. Maybe it did. There was clearly a lot going on that Jaime wasn't privy to. 

"Oh!" Cersei moaned louder than she'd meant to, and it made her gasp.

Jaime smirked against her and then looked up. Cersei whined at the loss of his lips. 

"Have you been a good girl this year?" Jaime asked, grinning through his teeth. 

Cersei rolled her eyes and lifted her foot to press her toes hard against his cock. 

Jaime sucked in his breath. "Ok, alright." He surrendered. He'd thought the Santa gimmick had been rather amusing. But she didn't want it right now so he returned his lips just as gladly to her cunt, and began to suck on her clit again. 

She had her hand on the back of his head now, pushing his face closer and Jaime loved every second of it. He loved it enough, in fact, to forget momentarily about the throbbing rod he had caged in his pants. 

"Oh, Jaime, Jaime, Jaime." Cersei panted when he'd gotten her dangerously close. 

She rocked her hips and he sucked harder until she came with one last, lovely moan.

She was unsteady on her legs and when Jaime stood, she fell against his chest, breathing hard.  He rubbed her back slowly, turning his head to kiss her temple. 

" _I_ think you've been a good girl." He whispered, teasing, drawing circles over her back. 

"Hm." She hummed, the corners of her mouth turning upward. 

Jaime smiled back, satisfied that she’d acknowledged the fun of it.  And then suddenly her hand grasped his balls straight through his pants and he jumped sucking air in through his teeth. 

"Have _you_ been a good _boy_?" She asked in a whisper, her glimmering green eyes looking up at him, lashes fluttering. 

_Fuck, Cersei._

He could have come from that alone. He hadn't wanted anything from her, just to make her feel good, but she made it so bloody hard for him not to want more.  His throat was dry and he tried to say something, _anything_ , but he couldn't. She’d caught him completely off guard; completely vulnerable.  She kissed his open mouth. 

"Better get busy, Santa. You’ve got a big trip ahead of you." She whispered, giving his balls a swift pat and sashaying out of the room after pulling up her shorts and readjusting her robe. Her panties still lay on the floor by his feet. 

_Fuuuuuuck._

Jaime groaned, tossing his head back.

* * *

He didn't emerge from his little changing room for quite a while, but when he finally began making his way back to the kitchen, he ran into Tyrion in the hallway. 

"Brother! You've missed the fat man himself!" Tyrion exclaimed laughing. 

Jaime smirked. "You mean Robert?"

Tyrion cracked up at that. "You're beginning to take after me! Better not tell Cersei. She'll have both our heads."

Jaime chuckled, his hand reaching into his pocket and fingering the lace of her panties. _What?_ He couldn't have just _left_ them there. Plus, he supposed they would make a nice parting gift since Gods knew how long it would be until they were together again. 

Robert lumbered out from one of the guest rooms he'd been stashed away in for the night and looked at the brothers. 

"Here's a bit of advice for you." He he groaned, "ale and wine... Not a good mixture." He burped and pounded a fist against his chest. Jaime grimaced. He gripped the silk and lace hidden in his pocket tighter.

"So, I heard Cersei and the kids aren't coming on the trip." Jaime said, wanting to annoy Robert by knowing this information about the man's family before he knew it himself. Robert raised his brow as he held in a belch.

He pounded his fist on his chest again to aid him in swallowing it. 

"Well ... Uh ... That's how it goes." He said, essentially shrugging the matter off.

Tyrion squinted at Robert. "You seem absolutely torn up about it." He said sarcastically. 

"'Tween you and me..." Robert said, clearing his throat, "I think we're all better off."

Jaime rocked back on his heels, brushing his thumb over the lace, relishing the fact that he held more of Cersei in his pocket just now than Robert ever would in his arms. 

"How's that?" Jaime asked, contentiously. 

Tyrion just stood there now, eyes darting back and forth between the two men, thoroughly entertained. He knew how much Jaime hated the boar and he was slightly nervous that Jaime would charge the man, in which case he couldn't quite break them apart the way Tywin had. 

"I don't think you want to be stuck with those four any more than I do." Robert laughed, as if it were a joke. He was, of course, referring to Cersei and their children. _His_ family. Supposedly. 

Tyrion's jaw fell slack and Jaime clenched his fist around Cersei's silk.  Tyrion stepped in before Jaime exploded at the man. 

"Surely you aren't referring to our sister and our neice and nephews."

Robert shifted awkwardly on his feet when he realised his joke hadn't quite landed and he chuckled, scratching his head. 

"I just mean... A lot of us together for such a time... Could be... Could get a bit dicey is all. And Cersei takes fucking ages in the bathroom." 

Jaime was standing stalk still, his muscles flexed, weighing the consequences of beating the man to death right then and there. 

"Cersei uh..." Robert sucked air in through his teeth. "She just didn't think it was a great idea to begin with. Something about Tommen and his nightmares and ..." He shuffled his feet. "Well, anyway, better go talk to her about it. Get it from the horse's mouth an' all." 

Jaime nearly lunged for Robert, but he felt Tyrion's hand pull at the back of his shirt, anchoring him in reality

"Wow." Tyrion sighed as Robert made his way from the room. 

Jaime was silent. 

* * *

Robert found Cersei in the guest room, picking out Tommen and Myrcella's outfits for the day. 

He cleared his throat as he entered the room and Cersei shut her eyes tightly at the sound of it. Her back was to him as she put the outfits together on the bed. 

"What?" She asked, annoyed at his very presence. She hadn't even turned around to look at him. Robert made his way over to her and sat on the bed so he could see her face, twisted up in disgust. 

"It was wrong of me to do that last night." He sighed, pushing his hair back and clearing his throat once more. "I shouldn't've involved the children."

Cersei looked down at him, meeting his eyes before slapping him squarely across the face. She took great pleasure in the sound her hand made when it connected with his cheek. 

Robert grunted and his arm twitched forward. Cersei _almost_ flinched, thinking for a moment that he might retaliate, but then realising he wouldn't dare. Not here. Not when the entire family was here to see the product of his rage. 

Instead, he balled his hand into a fist and swallowed hard. 

"Don't let it happen again." Cersei hissed, fuming that there was nothing else she could do about it. But she'd learned. And she'd never forget. 

"You're not coming." Robert said, and Cersei _hated_ the way he'd said it; as a fact. Almost happily.

"Mind yourself while you're away." Cersei said, not answering him since he hadn't asked a question. "Mind your hands _and_ your mouth. Have some fucking self respect and stop being such a bloody embarrassment."

Robert sat there staring straight ahead, fury boiling up inside of him, but he kept it in. He bit his lip and nodded, slapping his hands on his lap and standing up, sighing loudly as he did so and walking from the room without another word.

* * *

Nearly an hour later, the family gathered in the foyer to say their goodbyes. 

The children hugged their uncles and grandfather tightly and then their father, reluctantly. He'd never been one to _hug._

Jaime hugged his sister tightly, wishing they could've had even just a little more time together.

"Cers, please?" He whispered one last time. But he knew it was pointless. She'd made up her mind. It didn't make it hurt any less for either of them. 

The group of men left then, and Cersei went back to the guest room as her children played downstairs and prepared their things for the trip back to their own estate. 

"Mum?" The voice was almost unfamiliar to Cersei. 

She turned around to see Joffrey now walking toward her. He sat on the bed right where his father had, and Cersei tried to ignore that fact. 

"I want to go on the trip." He said. 

Cersei bit her lip. She felt badly that she hadn't consulted her oldest on the matter. 

"I'm sorry darling." She sighed and stroked a hand through Joffrey's golden hair. "But as I've told your sister we'll do lots of fun trips on our own."

Joffrey shook his head. "I know. But not with uncle Jaime and Grandfather." 

Cersei studied his face. She could tell the boy was being genuine. He wanted to spend time with the men of the family. He looked up to them. Robert wasn't exactly a good role model. 

"And I know Myrcella wanted to as well." He added.

Cersei was surprised. This was the first time in a long time she'd heard Joff speak about his sibling's wants, let alone express his own. She bit her lip. 

"Do you think we could go?" He asked. 

"Oh, love." She sighed. "We're a bit late now... The flight leaves in under an hour." She sat down on the bed with Joffrey and rubbed his back. "I promise there will be more trips." 

"Everyone promises things." Joffrey mumbled, leaning away from her touch. "Nobody ever means it."

Cersei saw movement out of the corner of her eye and she glanced up. Myrcella was peeking in from the doorway. 

"Myrcella." Cersei sighed. "Come here." 

Myrcella padded shyly over to the bed and stood before her mother. 

"You both want to go." She said, almost disappointed. 

The children nodded. 

Cersei brought her hands up to her forehead and thought things through. They were already packed, they'd just have to make it to the airport in time. And if they went, she could at least make sure Robert didn't make a complete mockery of the family name, the business. Plus, the children could spend time with their uncles. And... She could spend more time with Jaime. She felt her cheeks flush just at the thought of it. 

She let her hands fall from her face then. 

"Alright." She said, surrendering. Her children were only beings in the world that could bend her will... Save Jaime when the mood was right. "Better be quick about it, then."


	4. Christmas Eve, København

Cersei and the children piled into one of her father's town cars and had a driver take them to the airport.  They were so rushed on the way that Cersei hadn't even thought to call her father to let him know they were coming. It would be a close call, especially with holiday traffic and lines. Cersei's plan was to use their status to beat them, as she was rather practiced at it by now.

“Mummy will they let Lilly on the plane?” Myrcella asked as the little family clamoured out of the town car.

The driver retrieved their suitcases from the back and they were off. 

“They’ll let her on.” Cersei told Myrcella, rather too distracted to think much of the little crab now. 

“Mumma…” Tommen pressed his forehead against her neck as she carried him. The poor boy was confused at how quickly plans had changed one way and then back again, and he didn’t like when his mother was feeling stressed. 

Cersei hoisted him up on her hip as she pulled her luggage behind her, Tommen's bag swung over her shoulder. 

“It’s alright, love.” She assured him. 

They made their way to security and Cersei showed them her ID. One of the agents let them straight through to the V.I.P. line, which caused a bit of a commotion as people craned their necks and took out their phones to snap a few pictures of them. 

Cersei hurried her children in front of her. She could put up with the pictures herself, but she bloody _hated_ other people taking pictures of the children, treating them as though they were _commodities_. 

As Myrcella placed her hermit crab into the scanning tray, one of the agents, who, the whole time they’d been getting organised, had been staring straight at Cersei's tits, grabbed it up. Cersei was rather glad for it, unsure of the effects X-Ray radiation might have on a tiny crustacean such as Lilly. Were Jaime here, she knew he’d joke that Lilly would acquire super powers. 

“Ma’am, unfortunately we require all pets to be checked.” The agent told Cersei, not bothering to look up at her eyes. Cersei was used to less-than-polite stares at this point in her life, and often used them to leverage her will. 

Today she wore a long tan overcoat open over black silken pants that cut off mid ankle with an emerald green blouse tucked in to the high-waist. Her shirt zipped up the front, and she’d pulled the zipper up rather conservatively. She was quite surprised the man was looking at all. She knew Jaime would be furious at it, but she smirked to herself. _How lucky_ , she thought. 

Myrcella whined softly, and Cersei knew she’d be crying in a moment if they had to check the bloody crab. 

“I believe you do _today_.” Cersei said breathily, smiling sweetly at the man. “Or shall I let whomever is in charge here know that you’ve been far too focused on all the wrong _types_ of luggage?” She pulled her coat over her breasts then and the man blinked up at her, mouth open as though she’d slapped him across the face. 

He swallowed hard. “Um. Yeah. Yes. Go on then. Not a problem.” He stumbled over his words like a bumbling idiot and Cersei pushed the children gently forward through the metal detector, smiling all the way. 

When they’d gotten through security, the little group made a mad dash toward the gate. There were a few double takes as people recognized them dashing past, but Cersei couldn’t be bothered with it now. 

When they finally made it to the gate, they realised that the flight had been boarded, but the door was thankfully still open. They scanned their tickets and were allowed entry. 

Cersei sighed, relieved, as they made their way down the hollow tunnel and into the plane. Tywin had chosen to fly commercial (first class, of course) instead of taking the family jet in order to appear more ‘relatable’. Cersei had thought it ridiculous, but she was rather glad of it now because they’d have been long gone by now otherwise. 

As they entered the plane, Jaime and Tywin caught sight of them first. Cersei couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face as she watched Jaime’s expression brighten. He was so very _happy_ to see them. Cersei thought nobody had ever been so happy to see her in all her life. 

Joffrey quickly took a seat next to his father, who Cersei saw looked rather disappointed. That made her smile a bit, too. _Anything to ruin Robert’s fun_.

Tyrion was already asleep. 

Her father looked at her inquisitively as Jaime got up from his seat to help them with their bags. She supposed the look her father had given her was more happy than upset, so she had that going for her, anyway. 

“Couldn’t stay away, could you?” Jaime whispered lowly and winked at her as he lifted her bag up into the overhead compartment. He wished more than anything to touch her. 

Cersei rolled her eyes, but the smile never left her face. 

She got Myrcella settled in the seat next to Tyrion, just across from Robert and Joffrey who were both deep into a television program by now. Cersei  took an aisle seat, and placed little Tommen in the window seat next to her, a row in back of Robert and Joff. Jaime and Tywin sat two rows ahead of them. 

“You alright?” Jaime asked after securing the luggage above them. 

Cersei nodded, giving him a weak smile. She _hated_ flying. 

“I could see if-“ 

But Cersei shook her head before he could finish. “I’m fine.” 

Jaime nodded. “Ok.” He said softly, caressing her shoulder. He couldn’t help himself. He was so glad she was here. 

Jaime returned to his seat next to Tywin and got himself buckled in, wondering what had changed Cersei’s mind. 

As the plane took off, Cersei held Tommen’s hand. The little boy looked out the window in amazement as Cersei tried to focus straight ahead. She could see the top of her brother’s head from her spot. 

“Mumma?” Tommen asked when the plane had ascended to cruising altitude. 

“Hm?” Cersei hummed, slightly preoccupied by her anxieties, but trying her best to hide them from the boy. 

“How does a plane stay up in the air?”

“Oh…” Cersei exhaled deeply. “It’s built that way, love. It has big wings and engines that keep it in the air.” She tried to tell herself the same; It’s built to keep people _in_ the air. 

Tommen had flown a few times in his life, but not recently, so Cersei figured he was just getting re-accustomed to the novelty and seeming impossibility of it all. 

Cersei had travelled often in her life, especially when she’d been younger. She wasn’t exactly sure where her flight anxiety had come from, but she’d remembered feeling it even as a child. Jaime used to sit next to her on all their flights, all the way up until they went off to university and their lives seemed to splinter in two separate directions. 

He’d always hold her hand, let her rest her head on his shoulder. Sometimes he’d tell her jokes or stories to distract her.  When she’d gotten married to Robert, and begun traveling with him instead, he would laugh at her and call her irrational, or otherwise ignore her.  She hated being so vulnerable. She knew it wasn’t likely that the plane would crash, but it was a _possibility_ , and she couldn’t help the way it crept into her mind. Cersei _hated_ feeling out of control, and in a plane, she was subject to the will of the pilots or the weather or the mechanics of the plane. None of which were things she could control. 

About half-way through the four hour flight, Tommen had climbed into her arms and fallen asleep. It helped to have him there snuggling his warm body against her. But then, the plane hit a bout of turbulence. It was nothing out of the ordinary, but Cersei couldn’t stand the feeling of it.

She began to shake and worried that she might wake Tommen and frighten him. 

And so, when she saw Jaime get up from his seat and make his way back to her, she sighed deeply in relief. 

Jaime held on to the back of Joffrey’s seat to steady himself, and leaned down to talk to Cersei, keeping his voice quiet so as not to wake Tommen.

“This flight’s bloody boring.” He sighed, and she loved the way he said it. He knew it was exactly what she needed to hear. Nothing was out of the ordinary. 

“Can I come sit with you?” He asked. “Father’s snoring and I can’t take it.”

Cersei could see Tywin moving about two rows ahead, and knew he wasn’t sleeping but she nodded anyway, so glad for her brother. 

Jaime smiled and climbed over Cersei so she wouldn’t have to get up. He knew all the tricks with her. What he’d realised worked best, after their many years together, was that you had to make it seem like Cersei was doing you a favour. You couldn’t act as though she needed anything because Cersei never thought she needed _anything_. Cersei would never accept help because she could do everything on her own. It was rather funny, he thought, because each of them knew exactly what was going on, and each of them knew the other knew. 

Jaime smiled softly at her and leaned in to kiss her cheek; just an innocent kiss that might be shared between any brother and sister. 

“I’m glad you’re here.” He said, his eyes scanning over her body, stopping to watch Tommen for a moment, his cheek pressed against her breast. Jaime wished he could snuggle up with them; the three of them together. They hadn’t been able to do that since Tommen was a baby. They wouldn’t be able to do that ever again. It hurt Jaime to think about. 

The plane hit a large pocket of air and thumped rather violently. Jaime watched the fear fill his sister’s eyes, the way she gripped the armrest, her red lacquered nails digging in to the cushion of it.

“Here.” He said softly, unlatching her hand from the armrest and bringing it just below it, out of sight. He held on to her hand tightly, and felt her grip tighten on him now. 

“It’s alright.” He assured her gently. 

“What changed your mind?” He asked, referring to her presence, and hoping that conversation might distract her from the anxiety. 

“Joff and Myrcella wanted to come. They wanted to spend time with you.” She said, smiling weakly. 

He smiled back, prideful that they’d wanted to spend time with him. Joff, especially.

Cersei cocked her head. “Surprised?” She asked, and Jaime realised it must’ve been showing on his face. 

“No I just… How _is_ Joff?” He asked. 

Cersei laughed, but looked sad. “If only I knew.” She sighed, keeping her voice down, but Jaime doubted Joff could hear them with his headphones on. 

“He doesn’t talk to me - not really.” She said. “And he tries to talk to his father, but…” 

Jaime nodded.

“Mostly he shouts at us. Slams doors and stomps and …” Cersei looked as though she might disclose something else, but she shook her head, keeping it inside, whatever it had been. 

“But he was the one to come to me asking to come on the trip.” She continued. “And he said Myrcella wanted to as well. He never talks about them.” She was referring to Myrcella and Tommen. “So, here we are.” 

Jaime was a bit disappointed she hadn’t changed her mind on her own, but he knew she wouldn’t say it even if that he had factored into her decision making at all, and he hoped that he had, but he knew Cersei was a mother first. From the moment Joffrey was born, everything had changed, and so he knew she’d have done it for them anyway.

“I’ll try to talk to him while we’re away.” Jaime said, nodding at the seat in front of her; Joffrey’s seat. 

She smiled and nodded. “I think he’d like that.” She said. 

Jaime held Cersei’s hand through the rest of the flight, and especially through the descent, returning to his seat only after they’d landed to retrieve luggage. 

Cersei let out a breath of relief when she looked out the window to see they were on the ground, and she smiled. Christmas Eve in Copenhagen. It was one of her favourite cities. Her family had visited often when she and Jaime had been younger, but she hadn’t been since before Joffrey was born. She was excited to see how it had changed and to visit all of her old favourite places, and show them to her children.

* * *

When the family finally arrived at the hotel, Myrcella and Tommen were delighted, if not also completely exhausted from the morning's excitement. It was a grand hotel, and Tywin had reserved a large suite with a common room and smaller bedrooms adjoining it, complete with a fireplace and a kitchen, and a large, ornately decorated Christmas tree. 

Most of the family settled in for a nap as it would be a busy night, but Cersei and Jaime decided they’d rather visit one of their old haunts before the night’s festivities. 

When they’d been teenagers, they’d spent a large amount of their time in Copenhagen in the little artist’s colony of Christiania. For a long time, they’d talked of trying to be accepted to live into the colony. There, nobody knew them - or at least nobody cared about who they were. They could’ve run away and lived there together. It was the stuff of their teenage day dreams. 

Revisiting proved to be exhilarating.

“Happy Christmas.” A man said to them almost as soon as they’d entered under the archway. He handed Jaime a blunt. 

Jaime beamed and thanked the man. It was just as they’d remembered it here.  They walked about, sharing the weed until they reached the little bar that they’d visited so very long ago.  Jaime bought a couple of beers and the two of them wove their way though the lines of eclectic huts until they found a little stone dome that was unoccupied. They ducked inside and sat down to rest their feet and drink their beer. The pair of them were absolutely buzzing.  Cersei took a puff from the blunt, and Jaime stole it from her lips, causing her to laugh and curse at him. Gods it had been a long time since she’d smoked pot. 

Her head was swimming with thoughts of their youth; sneaking about, shagging here or there, jumping in the lake behind the trees in the summers and snogging in the dark of the grungy bar in the winters. Jaime was smiling and Cersei knew he was reliving all of the same memories. He pulled her onto his lap, taking a long draw from the blunt and then pressing his lips to hers, exhaling the smoke into her mouth as they’d done in younger years. Cersei laughed, the smoke drifting from her mouth as she did. 

Just half a day ago she was saying goodbye to him for another undetermined torturous amount of time and now here she was straddling his lap somewhere in the middle of Christiania, far far away from home where nobody knew them and nobody cared about yet another couple who couldn’t be bothered keep their hands off each other. She felt so bloody _free._

Jaime let Cersei finish off the rest of the blunt as he watched, holding his beer in one hand, his other working its way up her thigh and drawing circles on her, inching upward, getting dangerously close to her center. 

He was so perfect she could hardly keep her eyes off him; the way he looked her up and down, biting his lip as though he might devour her, the green gleam of his eyes, the press of his hips, unintentionally, against her. She loved the ways his arms were so sturdy, pressing against her when she needed them, keeping her centered. She loved his smell, his warmth, the taste of him as she ran her tongue up his neck now until her teeth closed around his earlobe and she sucked gently until he moaned. She loved that, too; the sounds of his pleasure. They were sultry and gravelly and wanting.  She held his face in her hands and whatever animal instincts had kicked up in him were calmed in an instant at her gentle touch and her soft eyes. 

He licked his lips and sighed shakily. 

"I remember everything, Cersei." He said quietly, setting his now empty beer bottle down and adjusting her hat that had fallen back, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear afterward for good measure.

Cersei nodded and pressed herself against him, her lips finding his instinctually and fitting together as well as their bodies did.  Jaime closed his eyes and tasted her; lavender, vanilla, hops. What a taste. 

He grasped a handful of the hair that flowed out from under her knit hat. 

"I wonder if we'd done it... if it would’ve worked out.” He thought aloud. He meant if they'd lived here. It didn't quite suit Cersei. Maybe when they were teenagers, but not now. And he wouldn’t allow it, he’d want to give her so much more. 

She bit her lip. "I have a feeling we'd both have had a tough time coping without plumbing." She said. 

Jaime laughed. 

"Plus I don't think either of us have much to contribute." She added

Jaime shook his head. "Nothing at all.” he laughed again, wrapping his hand around Cersei's which held her beer. He guided it to his lips and, hand still over hers, he took a long swig. 

She watched him, the way his throat flexed as he swallowed, the way he kept his eyes on her the entire time. 

When he lowered the bottle, he exhaled deeply, and Cersei could smell the tinge of alcohol on his breath. She felt a rush of warmth through her entire body, her desire for him spiking. 

“We’re really rather useless, aren’t we?” She asked, smiling brilliantly, her eyes glimmering. 

She brought the beer to her lips now and he kept his hand there still, watching her as she'd watched him. She drank until she'd emptied the bottle, the warmth of the alcohol now indistinguishable from that of her desire. 

Jaime barely breathed as he watched her, growing hard against her at the sight of her, the woman he loved so very much; mother of his children, his mirror, his sister, his best friend. Even the curve of her neck was more beautiful than anything he'd seen in his lifetime. 

He leaned forward as soon as she'd lowered the empty bottle and he pressed his lips to her, sucking on her skin, eliciting a soft moan and a roll of her hips as she grasped his jacket. 

“Completely." He breathed into her mouth, answering her finally, not that she’d expected him to. They’d been doomed to a life of wanting. They couldn’t help it. 

He pressed further against her, kissing her so she could only moan now into his mouth, their tongues laced together as tightly as their bodies.  When they pulled away they were breathing hard and Jaime wasted no time in pressing his lips to her neck, sucking, dying to hear her moan again. And when she did he whimpered, his hand back on her thigh now and moving up and across her center, making her shudder. She pulled him down, letting herself fall back against the wood and stone and Jaime was atop her now, her hands in his hair and then on his back. 

She breathed his name as he ran his fingers across her center, still covered by the fabric of her trousers. 

She let her hands fall to his belt now, working at it quickly, recklessly until she'd undone it.  Jaime moaned again and pressed his eyes closed as she unzipped his jeans and plunged her hand into his pants, desperate to touch him.  She sighed deeply when she finally held him in her hand and he shuddered against her. 

“Cers…” He managed to choke out, his throat tight. 

“Touch me, Jaime.” She pleaded, leaning her head back against the stone, her hair framing her face in a halo of gold illuminated by the late afternoon light. 

Jaime wasted no time in undoing the buttons and zipper of her pants and slipping his hand inside, feeling her warmth, her wetness. Fuck, she was so wet for him.  He kissed her roughly as she began to stroke him slowly, milking the wetness from him as well. 

“I love you.” She breathed and he moaned at that; that she’d _finally_ said it, and that she’d said it _first_. He kissed her harder, bucking into her hand. He needed _more_. He needed to be inside of her now. 

“Cersei.” He whimpered. 

“Shh.” She whispered, knowing what he needed, as she always did. She pulled her pants halfway down, gasping sharply at the cold of the stone beneath her on her bare bottom. 

Jaime pulled her up quickly and flipped her over so she was on all fours The cold was less of a shock on her knees. He pulled her pants and knickers down, pressing a kiss to her lower back, and pulling his own pants down before pulling her back onto his lap and sliding himself into her, his stomach against her back. 

“Mh!” He groaned at the feeling of her around him. His hands were clasped around her waist, hugging her tightly, and his lips were on her neck, kissing her there. 

“Oh!” She moaned, rolling her hips until he was whimpering, her hair in his face and his breath on her neck. One of his hands fell to her clit, rubbing her there until she arched her back, her arm coming up and bending back until her hand was on the back of his head, in his hair. 

The air around them was warmed with the heat of their bodies and their breath from their panting and moaning. Each of them saw only the golden light that danced around them now, and felt only each other, the pressure and the pleasure building as they reveled in the act of making themselves whole.  Cersei whined and Jaime moved his hand from her waist to her cheek, pressing her back further against him and turning her head until he could kiss her wantonly.  They breathed but a few more breaths until they each moaned once more, reaching their climax and melting together.  Cersei fell forward, warm enough now that the cool of the stone was a wasn’t such a shock, and Jaime joined her, pulling her against him, shuddering still from the waves of pleasure that crashed through him. He kissed her again, languidly, and brushed his hand over her cheek.  She sighed deeply when he pulled back to look upon her, and he could hardly contain the words any longer. 

“I love you.” He sighed. It was something like a relief to him every time he said it. 

Swiftly, as if by reflex, Cersei pressed her lips against and reached for him, desperate for his arms around her. 

They held each other for some time, panting and whimpering and catching their breath, readjusting to life again as two beings instead of one. It was difficult each and every time. It never got easier.  When they’d had their time, Cersei pulled away first, getting up to fix her pants and pull her coat and hat down.  Jaime watched her, smiling all the while until it was his turn.  He kissed her once more on the lips, and then gently on the cheek before pressing his lips to her ear. 

“We’re not _completely_ useless, I suppose.” He whispered, and she smirked. 

They returned to the hotel, hardly taking their eyes off each other until they parted, each going into their separate rooms to change. Jaime flopped down on his bed as soon as his door had closed. _Gods_ , that woman knew how to do things to him he never even thought possible.  He nearly fell asleep before pulling himself up and getting ready for the evening. 

The family looked lovely, all together, bundled up for the tree lighting that night.  They had dinner together in the hotel restaurant, before leaving to Nyhavn.  The children ran ahead of the adults, giddy at the fact that Santa would be visiting them tonight. Even Joffrey, too old for Santa, seemed excited.  Cersei felt at peace for the moment. Her children and her brother were with her, they could be close. And Jaime felt the same. He smiled as he glanced at his sister, who’d looked happier than he’d seen her in _years_ , perhaps. There was something about this place.

They made it to the harbour and gathered with a crowd around the darkened tree that towered above them all. Myrcella stood at Cersei’s feet, looking up at the tree, and then tilting her head back to look up at her mother, who was _smiling._ For no reason at all, she was _smiling._ Myrcella beamed, at the sight of that, and she allowed her little body to relax against her mother’s legs.  Cersei looked down at the girl and her smile grew. She ran her mittened hand across her daughter’s cheek. 

“Excited?” She asked. And Myrcella nodded her head, turning to the side so that she could hug Cersei’s leg. 

Cersei ran her hand across Myrcella’s back now and looked up when she’d felt someone move beside her. Jaime stood there, Tommen on his hip. 

“Lys!” Tommen shouted, clapping his hands. Jaime laughed. It was the one Danish word he’d been introduced to that he could actually pronounce, and it just happened to be perfectly relevant as the city was completely adorned with strings of beautiful lights. 

“Yes, love.” Cersei leaned in and kissed his precious little head as Jaime looked on. 

Joffrey flanked her other side, and Cersei looked over to see him with his phone out, ready to snap a picture of the tree. He was interested, and that was _something_. 

They watched the tree as everyone counted down and the lights came on.  Myrcella jumped up and down in excitement at Christmas music thrumming through the air and Tommen clapped his hands.  Joffrey even cracked a smile, and Cersei watched as he looked up at Robert and he clasped a hands on the boy’s shoulder. It wasn’t much, but Cersei was thankful for it, as she knew it likely meant the world to Joff.  Tyrion swayed along to the music, singing loudly and making Myrcella giggle. 

Tywin surveyed his family, prideful to see them all there, happy and healthy and united. 

* * *

Back at the hotel, the children got ready for bed in the matching pyjamas their mother bought for them every Christmas. They all gathered in the common room where Tywin had lit a fire, and they snuggled up on the couch to listen to him read The Night Before Christmas. Even Joffrey joined, though he was looking through his phone the entire time.  The adults watched from afar, Cersei, most especially. And when she’d settled the children all in their beds, Jaime helped her set their presents out under the tree. 

“Looks good.” He said when they’d finished, surveying their work. 

Cersei nodded. 

“How’d you fit all that in your suitcase?” He asked. It was an enormous amount of presents. 

“I had them shipped.” She said. 

Jaime chuckled. “Of course.” 

The common room was empty but for the two of them now, and the suite was dark. Jaime ran his hand across her back, but Cersei stepped away. 

“Come lay with me.” He whispered. 

She shook her head. This whole day had been too good to be true and Cersei didn’t wish to ruin it by having to leave him in the middle of the night, only to be caught by someone up to use the bathroom. Besides, Robert would be wondering where she was.  Cersei opened her mouth to explain, but Jaime spoke before she could.

“I know.” He whispered. He didn’t want to hear her say Robert’s name. He didn’t want to think about her sharing a bed with him tonight while he wanted her so. 

“Come here.” He breathed, pulling her against him. She allowed it, collapsing against his chest, exhausted from a day filled with emotions she’d tramped down for far too long. 

Jaime pressed his lips to her forehead. They couldn’t be together tonight. Jaime understood that. And he smiled in spite of it, because Cersei was here and she seemed happy. Their children were here. They were together. The holidays were off to a good start. 

“Happy Christmas Eve, Cersei.” He whispered against her, and she smiled, running her hand across his back. 

He held her for a while longer, lowering his head and kissing her cheek before they pulled away and parted for the night. 


	5. Merry Fucking Christmas

That night, Jaime woke in a different room. He recognised it as Cersei's old room at the Lannister estate. His bed was warm, and as he sat up, he felt something tickle his bare side. When he looked down he realised it was Cersei's hair. His sister was curled up next to him. 

He quickly sank back down under the covers, eager now to be pressed against her.  He made to pull her into his arms so he could hold her, feel her soft skin and her warm weight on him, but before he could even touch her, the air around them was pierced with the deafening sound of an infant's cry. 

It was a sound Jaime had come to know and loathe, for it meant his sister was about to be taken from him. But that was not what happened. In fact, Jaime _wished_ Cersei would stir, tell him what to do; as he oft felt helpless where babies were concerned. But when she did not, Jaime stood to find the source of the noise. 

He was drawn to a crib in a dark corner of the room, and as he peered in, he saw two familiar green eyes looking back at him.  He picked the babe up, but it only began to cry harder.

"Hush. Hush. You're mother's sleeping." Jaime whispered. "At least one of us should get some rest, don't you think? Oh hush, what are you so upset about anyway?"

He paused, almost expecting an answer, almost expecting the babe to push him away, to tell him that _he_ was the problem; a stranger who'd plucked the infant from its bed, a stranger who shared its eyes, its hair, its blood, its mother when possible, but hardly anything else. 

"Are you afraid?" Jaime asked. "I'm not going to let anything hurt you. I won't ever. Shh." And Jaime meant it. That was all he could offer his children; protection. He swore to protect them, even if he didn't always understand Cersei's urgency in doing so. She saw danger in everything; every stranger they passed on the street, every sharp edge of furniture or pointy piece of silverware, tiny pebbles and car doors and bathtubs and stairs and cut up bits of food that might still be too big, and the bloody _sun_. Everything and everyone that was not a Lannister, so it seemed, was a danger to her children - their children. And Jaime would not question her for she seemed to instinctively _know_ how to be a mother. That same ease did not, Jaime felt, come to him in regards to fatherhood… or whatever it was he was meant to be doing. And so as he rocked this child, he figured that it probably wanted its mother. It had never wanted Jaime before, and likely never would, but he would protect it all the same as it was his sister's will. 

And so he looked down at the screaming babe and offered to it calmly, "Are you worried about your mum? She's just there, just sleeping-." 

Jaime had turned to show the baby its mother but realised that she wasn't asleep after all. 

He smiled at her sheepishly. 

"Sorry." He whispered. "We were trying to be quiet." 

Cersei had been _so_ tired when the children were that young. In fact, it seemed to Jaime that if she wasn’t cradling a child, in those days, she was sleeping. Jaime was a starving dog, lunging at whatever scraps Cersei would toss out for him. To lay next to her, even, was asking a lot. Once, she'd troubled herself with reaching out and running her nails across his scalp. He'd closed his eyes and quickly realised, much to his embarrassment, that it was making him hard. He'd been so desperate for her affections then and she'd just had none to spare.  So just her touch in those times was the most valuable thing in the world to Jaime. Sometimes he'd try to touch _her_ , to remind her of the pleasure he'd brought her before he'd given her a child, but she would push him away. 

He wanted her to remember that _he_ could make her happy too, that there had been a time when she’d wanted him as well - perhaps not as much as she'd want the children now, but he'd been worth at least _something_ to her once. It hurt him in ways he couldn't explain. He couldn't understand what Cersei saw in these tiny, defenseless creatures, but as the children grew older, Jaime found it easier to see. They were innocence embodied. They were _people._ They were _Lannisters._ Sometimes that had been hard to see when they were just screaming little bundles who'd wanted his sister all to themselves. He'd been jealous of _infants_ , and he was ashamed to admit that, but he'd always protect them, he'd always love them in his own way, and over time he leaned that the jealousy he felt was unwarranted. He wanted the best for them as well, and their mother knew how to provide it. And he would provide for her whatever she needed; be it for her or for the children. And that was how Jaime reconciled his role in their lives. He was a provider; less than a father in role, because he simply couldn't be, but surely more than just an uncle.

Cersei had held her arms out for the boy as soon as Jaime had turned toward her and Jaime had brought him to her bedside, kneeling and shifting the boy gently into his mother's arms. Jaime watched intently as she pulled her silk nightdress down to reveal her breast, swollen with milk. Jaime had been mesmerized at how motherhood had changed her body. He was sure there'd never been a greater miracle than his sister's body. 

Cersei held the boy to her breast and Jaime leaned his forehead against hers as the infant quieted and began feeding. 

"Just hungry." Cersei whispered, trying to reassure Jaime, her voice hoarse and tired. 

Jaime nodded and turned his head, kissing Cersei on the cheek. 

"I love you." He'd whispered, as he'd done countless times before and since. 

Cersei had turned to look at him, to _really_ look at him, searching for something in his eyes, trying perhaps to find the reason for his affections. Sometimes it surprised her how much Jaime would take for them; how much of himself he would sacrifice. She wondered, if roles were reversed, if she'd do the same. 

And so that night, feeling grateful for his presence, Cersei rested her head on Jaime's sturdy shoulder, their child just below them, and she whispered in his ear, "I love you too, Jaime." 

Jaime had felt his stomach flip. He held her cheek in his hand and turned her face toward him, kissing her and stroking her cheek with his thumb. 

Things had been different then. Cersei hadn't been so afraid. He knew she'd slap him if he ever used that word to describe her, but he believed it to be true. He believed that she was afraid of his affections because _needed_ them. And to need made her weak. They could lose everything. And so she reasoned that it would be less painful to just use him when she needed him and then pretend the rest of the feelings didn't exist. Jaime understood it. He didn't fault her for it, but he wanted her to see that it didn't have to be that way. He would never let anyone keep them apart. He'd rather die. 

Jaime suddenly felt a weight on his chest. He was ripped from the soft intimate memory his unconscious mind had conjured with a gasp. 

“Oof!” He jolted up when Tommen had climbed on his chest. He scanned the room and realised he'd been dreaming. 

“It’s Christmas!” Tommen shouted. “Uncle Jaime, wake up for presents!” 

Jaime laughed at his son’s excitement. 

“All right, I’m coming, I’ll be right there.” He said, ruffling the boys’ hair. 

Tommen grinned, climbing off his uncle and running out into the hallway shouting “Santa came!”

Jaime took a moment for himself, trying to shake himself back into reality. The baby in his dream had been Joffrey. He remembered that night now. Cersei had allowed him to stay there with them, to hold both of them in his arms at once. It had been lovely, just as yesterday had been; a different type of lovely, but not better or worse. He knew more now, had a clearer role, he supposed, which was nice. He hoped today would be just as lovely. 

Jaime threw a robe on over his sweats and t-shirt and stumbled out into the foyer where the tree was kept. It was a grand thing, twenty feet tall, covered with white lights and ornaments and a gold star at the very top. How the hotel had managed to drag it into the room, Jaime did not know. 

Tywin sat in a leather armchair, legs crossed at the knee, smoking a pipe, his usual Christmas tradition, fire codes be damned. 

“Merry Christmas, father.” Jaime said, as he walked in. 

Tywin nodded at him. 

Myrcella was sitting on the floor by the many presents, her legs tucked under her and her hermit crab by her side. 

Tyrion joined them shortly after, carrying a mug of coffee. Irish coffee likely, Jaime guessed. He held it up to his brother. “Merry Christmas!” He said to Jaime. But then he rolled his eyes and nodded toward the kitchen. “Or is it?”

Jaime leaned slightly to the left to see through the door that Cersei and Joffrey were there. It looked as if they were arguing. 

He couldn’t see Cersei’s face but she was waving her hand in the air, and Joff’s face was all scrunched up. 

Jaime was just about to look away when he saw Joffrey push her. He _pushed_ her, his mother. Jaime’s hands were in fists. He was about to storm in there and give Joffrey a stern talking to but the boy whipped around and ran off.  Cersei sighed, her shoulders falling and her arms wrapping around herself. Jaime hurried in then, his hand running down her arm and surprising her as he turned the corner. 

“Hey.” He whispered. 

When he looked down upon her he saw her eyes were full of tears. 

“Hey.” He said again, his hands cupping her elbows. 

She waved him away, and a tear fell. He moved to wipe it away but she did it herself before he could.  He reached for her, but she pushed him away, turning and walking out into the foyer, wiping her eyes once more. 

Jaime sighed. _Children_. He made a mental note to speak to Joffrey about this later, whether Cersei wanted him to or not. No son of his would treat a woman that way, much less his own _mother_. 

“Mummy! Let’s open presents!” He heard Tommen yell. 

Jaime made his way back through the hallway to join the rest of the family. 

“Where’s Robert?” Tywin asked, looking up at Cersei who stood next to him, her arms still wrapped around herself. Jaime wished they were his arms instead. 

She didn’t answer him, didn’t even realise he was talking to her, it seemed. 

Jaime moved next to her, touching her arm again and she jumped. 

“What?” She asked, turning to her father. 

“I asked you where Robert is.” Tywin said cooly. 

Cersei shook her head. “He’s just… he’s still asleep."

Jaime bit his cheek. 

“Mummy, should I go get him?” Myrcella asked, calling over. 

Cersei shook her head. “No, sweetling. I'll get him.” Robert didn't like his sleep disturbed, no matter the occasion, and Cersei knew it would not be a pleasant experience to wake him. 

“What about Joff?” Myrcella asked. 

Cersei shook her head. “It’s alright, darling. Why don’t you start with giving your gifts first. I’m sure he’ll be back.” 

Tywin was staring daggers at his daughter. Could she really not keep her family together for _one_ bloody holiday?

Cersei wouldn’t look at her father. She knew he’d be upset.

Joffrey had been complaining that he hadn't as many gifts as his little brother. Cersei was trying to explain to him that while his brother might have _more_ , Joff’s gifts were more expensive, but the boy wasn’t having it. He’d shoved her before. He’d _hit_ her before. It was nothing new, but it hurt her every time all the same. She was glad he hadn’t hit her then. She didn’t want to cause a scene with the whole family in the next room about to open presents, and if Jaime had seen him _hit_ her, she knew it would be explosive. But the truth was, she was terrified that Joffrey was becoming his father… or who he thought was his father, at least. Perhaps he’d seen the way Robert treated her and so he thought that it was alright to do the same. She’d always tried to keep that part of her and Robert’s relationship far from the children. She was ashamed of it - that she couldn’t be stronger, but she wasn’t sure what to do. Especially when her father had expressed how much he’d needed Robert’s help in the company, and how _proud_ he’d been when she’d married the man he’d set her up with. And her children loved Robert solely for the fact that he was their supposed father. 

"D'you want-" Jaime tried to offer her his help but she just turned and walked away, back into her room where Robert slept soundly. 

Jaime’s shoulders fell and he sighed, trying not to look too disappointed in front of everyone. 

Cersei closed the door to her room behind her, lest anyone hear the way Robert scolded her for waking him. 

"Robert." She said, standing on his side of the mattress and shaking his arm. His snoring stopped briefly, but quickly resumed. She did it again, shaking his arm until he snorted and awoke with a groan. 

"What do you want, woman?! Gods, can't a man get a bloody moment's peace?"

Cersei rolled her eyes. "The children are going to open presents." She said, annoyed. 

Robert sighed loudly and rolled over, causing the mattress to creak. 

"My father is waiting for you." She said finally. 

That got his attention. Robert waved her off. "I'll be out in a moment." 

Cersei gladly left the room, door flung open behind her.  Gods, it was infuriating the way he never took her seriously.  Cersei rejoined her family and informed them that Robert would be but a moment. Jaime watched her face for any sign of distress. She was completely expressionless.

In the meantime, the children started giving their gifts. 

“Grandpa, this is from me and Tommen.” Myrcella said shyly, handing Tywin a crudely wrapped present. Of course, Cersei had taken the children to pick out presents for their relatives as she did every year. The children loved doing it. 

Tywin opened it without a word. It was a set of ties. 

Tywin reached out and cupped the girl’s chin. “Thank you, darling.” He said sincerely, and he nodded at Tommen who smiled back sweetly from his spot on the rug. 

“This one’s for you uncle Tyrion.” Myrcella said, lifting another poorly-wrapped gift from under the tree. 

Tyrion unwrapped a large bottle of fine whiskey. 

“Ah, children! You know me so well.” He laughed, and the children smiled, unsure why it was so funny. Cersei had helped them with that gift. 

“Uncle Jaime, this one is yours.” Myrcella said, bringing a small box to her uncle. 

Jaime unwrapped it to reveal a thick cream coloured cotton pullover and a Duncan yo-yo, the kind he and Cersei had been _obsessed_ with as children. They’d gotten their first yo-yos for their tenth Christmas. 

Jaime couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face, especially when he saw it had a little lion on the side. 

“Thank you guys, this is amazing!” He exclaimed, kneeling down to hug Myrcella tightly and moving to Tommen to give him a hug as well. “I’ll show you how it works later.” He told the boy, who beamed. 

When he stood he stole a glance at his sister. She was looking down at her feet, trying to hide her smile. 

“Mama,” Myrcella said, her voice sorrowful, “Joff, Tommen and I didn’t have any money so we made you a gift instead.”

_Of bloody course Robert hadn’t taken them to get anything for Cersei._

“Oh, sweetling, you didn’t have to.” Cersei smiled. She hadn’t expected anything from them at all, knowing Robert wouldn’t take them. “Come here, loves.” She said, her voice as sweet as Jaime had ever heard it. She knelt down to meet her son and daughter who came rushing into her arms.

Myrcella offered her mother a paper ornament; a lion with a cotton-ball mane and a yarn tail, fastened to a paperclip as a hanger. Jaime seriously doubted Joff had any part in its construction, but Myrcella and Tommen were sweet enough to make up for it. 

“Oh my goodness!” She exclaimed. “I love it! We must hang it up at once!”

Tommen and Myrcella giggled. 

Lions had always been a Lannister mascot of sorts. There had been a bedtime story about a mother lion and her cubs passed down through generations of Lannisters and the lion had become the mascot for their prolific empire of an investment company as well. 

“Where shall we put it?” Cersei asked. 

The three of them walked over to the tree and Jaime had the chance to really admire his sister for the fist time this morning. 

Cersei looked ravishing with her hair still a bit messy from sleep, falling in loose ringlets over her shoulders. She shone in the sunlight in her green silk nightdress with a baby blue silk robe over it, and boots on her feet to keep them warm - they were always cold. Jaime smiled at that. Sometimes she’d put them on his back to make him squirm. 

Joffrey shuffled into the room behind Jaime and he was about to pull the boy back out in the hallway to discipline him (since apparently his bloody father wouldn’t), but Myrcella saw him and ran to him. 

“Joff! It’s time to open presents!” She squealed, giddy. 

She pulled her brother over to the tree.  Cersei eyed the boy, who looked away from her. 

“Yes!” Tyrion shouted, just to throw his voice out there. “Let’s see what we have!” 

The children looked expectantly at Cersei, who looked at Tywin. The man simply raised his brow at her. 

Cersei sighed. "Let me check on your father." She said 

Cersei made her way back into the bedroom where Robert had fallen back to sleep. She was less gentle waking him this time, shaking him hard.  He groaned and flung his hand out, hitting her in the face. She held in a yelp and clutched her hand over her nose where blood had begun to spill out. 

"Gods save me, fucking hells, woman." Robert sighed, sitting up in bed. He'd meant to hit her but he hadn't meant to make her bleed.

He reached to the bedside table and grabbed a handful of tissues, tossing them at her before getting out of bed and lumbering out to the foyer.  Cersei knelt there on the bed, pressing the tissues to her nose to staunch the bleeding and blinking back tears of fury and rage as she heard the children excited to see him. 

"Daddy, we got this for you." She heard Myrcella say. They had picked him out a nice dress shirt.

The tears stung at her eyes and she cursed the pain of her nose under her breath. 

Jaime peeked in to make sure she was alright. 

"Are you alright?." He asked softly when he saw her kneeling there on the bed. 

Cersei quickly tossed the bloodied tissues into the rubbish by the side of the bed. 

"A moment." She muttered, climbing off the bed and all but running into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

She nearly collapsed on the cool tile floor. It was tempting; to curl up there and cry. Her life had felt so ... _Together_ last night but now everything seemed to be in pieces. Her son was turning into his father and what could she do about it? Certainly nothing to defend herself, and apparently nothing to defend him either.

Cersei leaned over the sink and splashed some water on her face. 

"Cersei." Jaime was knocking on the door, concerned.

Cersei wiped her nose once more, making sure all traces of blood were gone, before leaving the bathroom. 

Jaime was standing right outside the door. He reached out and ran his open hand across her cheek, his thumb caressing her. His touch was so gentle Cersei could've burst into tears right there. She wanted to press herself against him, wrap herself in his protective arms and tell him all the awful things that Robert had done to her. And then, as her Christmas gift, she wanted Jaime to hold Robert down as she cut him apart, piece by piece with the dullest blade she could find. 

But she shook the idea from her head and pushed past her brother. 

"It's fine." She lied, and Jaime was far from reassured. 

When all the adults had convened in the common room, the children unwrapped gift after gift. Jaime could have watched them all day. He loved seeing their little faces light up when they opened each one. Even Joff’s mood seemed to lift.  And Cersei couldn’t have been happier. She loved seeing them happy. Jaime wished they could have a Christmas all alone, just he and Cersei and their children. He would hold her close, his arm around her while they watched their children parade around with their favourite gifts. 

But this would do. Seeing them all happy and safe and together would do. 

The rest of Christmas morning saw the children playing with their new toys after a sumptuous Christmas breakfast prepared by the hotel chef.  The family lazed around most of the day, enjoying the down time. There would be a party that night. 

Myrcella climbed into Jaime's lap while he sat in front of the fire.  She hugged him without a word and he hugged her back. 

"Daddy won't let me do his makeup." She sighed. The girl had received a make up kit for Christmas. "Can I do yours, uncle Jaime?" 

Jaime smiled. "Only if you make me look as pretty as you." He said and the girl laughed and nodded. Jaime admired the way her eyes shimmered when she was happy, just like Cersei’s. 

She climbed all over her uncle, attacking his face from different angles with blush and eyeliner and lipstick. 

"Did Santa get you everything you asked for?" Jaime asked as she beat his cheeks with blush. 

Myrcella nodded. 

"Uncle Jaime, I know you dressed up as Santa at grandpa's."

Jaime was surprised and unsure how to react. 

"Cells..." Jaime reached out and stroked her cheek. 

"It's ok." The girl assured him with a shrug. "I know Santa is too busy to make visits so I understand why you did it." Jaime sighed in relief. At least he hadn't shattered her belief in Santa. Cersei would have his head.

But then he thought of something and his face grew serious. "When you asked me about your mum..."

"I knew you'd be the best person to ask." She said sweetly. "Better than the real Santa." 

Jaime swallowed hard.

“I know when I'm sad Tommen always makes me feel better so I thought since you're mummy's brother you might make her feel better too. Mummy smiles more when you come to visit.” She said.

"That's very sweet, princess." Jaime told her, astonished at her perceptiveness. 

The girl shrugged. "I like when mummy laughs." 

Jaime smiled. "Me too. Shall we make her laugh right now?"

Myrcella nodded and he lifted her up under her arms, making her squeal as he carried her over to Cersei who sat on the couch, her legs tucked under her as she watched Tommen work on a puzzle Santa had brought him. 

"Mummy, look how pretty I made uncle Jaime!" Myrcella shouted as Jaime set her down. He beamed from under a hilarious horror-movie-clown quality make up job. 

Cersei burst into laughter at the sight of it, and Tyrion joined in quickly after. 

"The most beautiful girl in the kingdoms! To what do we owe the honour?" Tyrion joked. Myrcella giggled. 

From the corner, Jaime saw as Joffrey scoffed and shook his head. He worried about the boy. 

"Loves, would you go get dressed? I've put your clothes out on your beds." She said to her children. “We ought to start getting ready if we’ve got your uncle Jaime’s beauty to live up to.”

Tommen and Myrcella nodded and scurried off. Joffrey pretended he hadn't heard her. 

"Joff." Cersei called. He didn't look up from his game. 

Jaime hated that he disrespected his mother that way. Just like Robert might. 

Tyrion sensed the tension in the air and tried to break it. "So! Who votes we all have something to drink _before_ the party tonight?" He searched his sibling's eyes, waiting for a response but there was nothing. Nothing but the sound of Robert and Tywin laughing in the kitchen. 

Cersei stood up and made her way over to the boy, standing over him. 

"Joffrey." She said, not quite as sternly as Jaime had hoped. "I asked you to please get dressed." 

"Joffrey, your mother's speaking to you." Jaime barked, unable to keep quiet when the boy ignored her yet again. Jaime would not allow him to disrespect her that way. 

Tyrion bit his lip and debated sneaking off while everyone seemed rather distracted. This was more than he'd bargained for. 

Joffrey looked up, not even acknowledging his mother and staring straight at Jaime. 

"Oh? I didn't hear a thing." He said cooly, returning his eyes to his game.

Cersei shook with anger and embarrassment. She would not hurt her boy. She would not scold him the way Robert did, or slap him the way that he would have. That was why Joff acted this way in the first place. Robert had no respect for her and that's exactly what Joffrey was learning to replicate. 

Jaime had seen enough. He stormed over and ripped the game from Joffrey's hands. 

"Jaime!" Cersei shouted. 

The boy stood up, defiant. "Really?" he shouted at his uncle. 

Jaime took a step toward Joffrey but Cersei stepped between them, pushing at Jaime's chest. 

Joffrey stepped out from behind his mother, hating that she thought he might need her protection. 

After hearing Cersei shout, Robert had made his way into the room to check on everyone. Tywin had gone to get dressed, himself. 

Jaime took another step toward Joffrey and the boy flinched away. Had he really thought Jaime would hurt him? Why would he think that? Jaime immediately fell to his knees to show he was no threat, and he took Joffrey by the shoulders. Gods he was so small, still. Jaime could never even _dream_ of hurting him. 

"Don't _ever_ treat your mother that way!" He shouted. "She would do _anything_ for you, do you understand that?" Jaime’s voice was harsh, but his grip on Joffrey was not. 

Joffrey was embarrassed now; embarrassed that he'd been frightened and embarrassed that he'd thought himself tougher than he actually was. Uncle Jaime was wearing _makeup_ for Gods sakes and he was still so much stronger than he.

Joffrey nodded, looking down at the floor. 

"Don't speak to my boy that way." Robert stepped in, irritated that Jaime thought his son needed his uncle to discipline him. 

"Someone needs to." Jaime hissed, staring at Robert. 

Cersei eyed Jaime with fire in her eyes. Surely _he_ wasn't commenting on their parenting. 

Robert stormed over and got into Jaime's face. 

"Boys, boys!" Tyrion shouted now, standing from his spot on the couch. 

Robert shoved Jaime.

"Hey!" Tyrion shouted, trying to get through to them. 

Jaime's teeth were gritted now, and he was all but growling at Robert. He shoved him back, and Robert laughed. 

"That's what you're teaching your son?" Jaime spat. 

"I'm certainly not teaching him to prance around in makeup!" Robert shot back. 

Joffrey watched the two men with wide eyes. 

Robert pushed Jaime again, harder this time and Cersei had seen enough. She stepped between the men, facing Robert. "Enough!" She shouted at him, her hands on his chest. Robert glanced down at her. He might as well have been looking straight through her. 

"This is _childish_." She seethed, pressing on Robert's chest. 

"Go to your room. Keep your brother and sister inside." Jaime ordered Joffrey calmly, looking down at the boy. 

"Don't you dare tell him what to do!" Robert boomed. 

Joffrey jumped at the volume of his father's voice and decided to obey his uncle then, hurrying off to his room and shutting the door behind him. 

Robert pushed Cersei out of the way and that had been the last straw for Jaime.

"Don't bloody touch her!" Jaime bellowed, pushing the man back against the stone of the fireplace and grunting loudly. Robert took a swing at Jaime and connected with his lip. 

Jaime didn't think about the children now, how he'd be hurting the man they believed to be their father. He didn't think of Cersei, how upset she'd be. And yet, all the rage that Jaime felt inside of him was _because_ of the children and Cersei. It was because of the way Robert treated them. They were _Jaime's_. Robert had no right to hurt them. And he _had_ hurt them. 

_They're not yours._ Jaime thought as he swung back at Robert, despite both Cersei and Tyrion shouting at him not to.

So there he was, in Copenahagen on Christmas day, wearing a full face of clown makeup, finally _finally_ giving Robert a little taste of what he truly deserved. It hadn't exactly been the way he'd dreamed of hurting Robert (and he _did_ dream of it) but the moment that Jaime's fist connected with Robert's bearded cheek was pure and utter _bliss_. 

It felt so _fucking_ good, in fact, that Jaime did it again and again. Robert swung back at him and Jaime could just barely hear the sound of Cersei screaming at them to stop. 

And then suddenly, Jaime felt a hand on his back; one that he'd felt there before. It grasped his shirt and yanked him back from Robert, pushing the men apart and standing between them as Cersei had. Tywin had finally heard the commotion and come to put a stop to it. 

"What is the meaning of this?!" He was furious. Jaime blinked rapidly, coming back to reality. His head hurt. He could taste blood in his mouth. Cersei was in tears and Tyrion stood next to her, his mouth open in seeming disbelief. 

"Are you bloody _children!?_ " Tywin shouted. "Get out of my sight both of you and if I see anything like that again you're both bloody fired!" 

Jaime stalked off, slamming the door to his room behind him. 

He sat on his bed, head in his hands, panting. Jaime couldn't give a _fuck_ about the company. It was his father that had forced him into it in the first place. 

He kept seeing flashes of Cersei's face as he sat there, trying to cool down. Her cheeks had been red from shouting, and there'd been tears in her eyes. Jaime didn't like that. He hadn't meant for that. He didn't understand it. She _hated_ Robert. Why wouldn't she want him to defend her?

So much for a nice quiet Christmas, Jaime scoffed.

* * *

The next time he saw her they were leaving for a charity Christmas party and Tywin was (yet again) a guest of honour. 

Jaime had cleaned himself up as best he could. His bathroom sink looked like a murder scene what with all the makeup and blood. Jaime's lip was split, but at least the bleeding had stopped. Everyone had managed to clean up nicely; even Robert, who was sporting the beginnings of a bruise around his right eye. 

Tywin pinched the bridge of his nose as he saw Jaime and Robert. _It's like I run a fucking circus in place of a business._ He breathed to himself. 

Jaime tried to help Cersei into the limousine after she'd ushered in the children. She wore a beautiful gown, champagne coloured and made of silk. 

"Don't touch me." She'd said it with such scorn that Jaime drew his hands back as though she'd burned him. 

"I'm sorry." He said softly. 

The ride to the hall was silent. Even the children were silent. Jaime wondered how much of the scuffle Tommen and Myrcella had heard. They would be disappointed in him. He certainly wasn't making Cersei laugh now. 

At the party, Jaime sat between Tyrion and Tywin. Cersei and Robert sat on the other side of the table with the children. The centerpiece slightly obscured Jaime's view of his sister and he was glad for it because Robert had suddenly become rather affectionate toward her. Perhaps it was the ale, perhaps it was because he bloody _knew_ it drove Jaime mad when he touched his sister like that in public. Perhaps Cersei was allowing it for the same reason. He didn't understand why she always punished _him_ instead of Robert. 

Jaime gripped the side of his seat with one hand and tried not to think about it as Robert brushed her golden locks aside to whisper something in her ear. Jaime swore he saw Robert dart his tongue out, but before he could process it fully, Tywin was demanding his attention. 

"You'll have to speak to Fischer Roth later, and you absolutely cannot mention the new little partnership we've made with Meade and Company, do you understand?"

It was all bullshit politics to Jaime but he gave his father a nod and Tywin seemed satisfied. 

They listened to one speaker after another drone on about the charity work they'd done this year. Jaime knew from experience it was just something rich people did either to make them feel better about themselves or, in his father's case, to network. 

Tywin spoke about the money he'd donated to relief efforts across the globe and Jaime rolled his eyes because he knew full well that his father couldn't have given less of a shit about any of it. The one upside was, Jaime supposed, that it was good work being done. And it was good for the children to hear about it. 

Jaime looked over at Joffrey then, who'd just been pushing his food around on his plate all night. Jaime needed to talk to him, tell him that the fight wasn't his fault. He wondered if Cersei had spoken to him about it yet. 

"Honey, eat something." Jaime heard Cersei lean down and say to him. He didn't look at her, but he stabbed a mini potato and brought it to his mouth, chewing slowly. Cersei looked satisfied at that. It was an improvement on the afternoon at least. 

They stood and clapped when Tywin had finished speaking and, after dinner, people began to mingle about. 

Jaime spoke with a number of prominent executives. He'd grown accustomed to it over time, and had come to find that the less of a businessman he acted, the more comfortable his conversation partner was. And that usually buttered them up enough to at least start open the door for future partnership. Tonight though, he'd had no such luck. He was off his game, worrying about the events that had transpired earlier. 

Robert, however, had no trouble getting a few business cards. He always did better when Cersei was there, as she proved to be quite knowledgeable on company affairs, despite Tywin not involving her in the business. Cersei had gone off on her own and become a successful lawyer. She’d wanted her father to notice. She specialised in business law specifically so that she’d be a fit for the company, and she ended up operating one of the most successful firms in the nation, but Tywin never quite trusted her enough to bring her on board. It hurt her more than she’d ever let on. To Robert, though, Cersei was a trophy. He had hardly any interest in the work she did or how it could benefit the company. He simply thought it helped that most men couldn't take their eyes off her, let alone say no to her. 

Cersei knew this, and she played along when she was bored or when she felt amenable. Tonight, she did it to spite Jaime. She knew that every card Robert took was one Jaime would not, and although they were technically on the same team, Tywin took note of who was doing what. 

Cersei tired of the game though after some time. She was drained emotionally from the ups and downs of the past few days, so, while the children played with their uncle Tyrion in the party-provided children's room, she left to be on her own for a spell. 

It was a nice night - mild for winter in Copenhagen, but still cold enough that nobody else had venture outside. Cersei walked through the gardens. They were illuminated only by the warm light shining from the windows of the grand hall, but it was enough for her to see her immediate surroundings. She  took a deep breath. The air here seemed cleaner than in King’s Landing. She on a cold stone bench beneath a line of large Italian firs and closed her eyes. It was nice to sit in silence for a while. It got to be so exhausting living this lie all the time.  Cersei leaned forward, her elbows on her thighs and she covered her eyes with her hands as she breathed deeply. 

She _hated_ Robert. She hated Robert for what he did to her, but he hated him so much more for what he was doing to her precious baby boy. 

And Jaime. Jaime thought she needed him to defend her. Jaime thought she was _weak._ And he always thought he could _fix_ everything. She scoffed to herself. What was his solution? To kill the man? That would only cause them more strife. 

Gods, she could use another joint about now. 

She looked up at the skies at all of the stars and tried to pick out Leo from the various constellations. She herself had never had much interest in the stars, but their mother had. When she and Jaime were young, she’d lay with them in the grass outside, one of them on each side, and they’d look up at the stars. They’d take special care in picking out Leo, as that was Cersei and Jaime’s sign. And mother would tell them that they could find Leo no matter where they were in the world. The lion would always be watching over them, protecting them. Father had always thought it ridiculous, and Cersei could understand why, but when mother had died, Cersei would find Leo every night. It helped her to feel as though her mother were still there with her. She still looked up every once in a while to find her Leo, to speak to her mother. She showed her children Leo and told them the story as well, just as her mother had shown her. 

Suddenly, Cersei heard the sound of crunching gravel. She tore her eyes from the skies to see Jaime approaching her.

“I’m not following you.” He said before she could tell him to go away. "Just needed some air." It wasn't entirely true. 

Cersei returned her eyes to the sky, ignoring him and searching the stars again. She’d always had a hard time picking out constellations. It took her some time as she didn’t quite have the imagination to see it them off the bat. 

Jaime sat down beside her on the stone bench. 

“It’s there.” He said, pointing up at the stars, knowing what she was searching for. She both hated and loved that he knew her so well. Jaime had always been quick to identify the stars, not that he read into them any more than Cersei. But he knew Cersei would look to Leo and think of their mother, and so when Cersei needed help finding her, it was the least he could offer. 

Cersei cocked her head, trying to see where he was pointing and when he heard her exhale, he knew she’d found it. He smiled slightly watching her. He found it funny as it didn’t really fit her personality at all, _stargazing._ But she looked exceptionally beautiful doing it, and Cersei, as he’d come to know, was full of surprises. She was his favourite enigma. 

“You look very beautiful.” He decided to tell her softly, truly just wanting her to know. He knew Robert wouldn’t have told her. To Robert, grabbing her ass and maybe a tit here or there was tantamount to a compliment. 

“Stop.” Cersei said, eyes still on Leo. 

Jaime looked down at his hands. They’d been roughed up a bit in the tussle with Robert. 

“I’m sorry.” He said. “For everything. I just… Can’t let him speak to you that way. And then Robert… I can’t… Cersei, I can’t _stand_ him. And then he pushed you, just like Joffrey. They both _pushed_ you, Cersei.” 

Cersei hadn’t moved her eyes from the stars. She clutched her hands in her lap, willing herself not to cry. Robert she hadn’t much cared about, but yes, her baby boy had _pushed_ her. And she’d brushed it off before, thinking it was just a phase. Clearly it was not. It was getting worse, and the way he spoke to her was exactly like Robert. She’d failed him. Her first boy, but she would fix it. She didn’t need Jaime’s help. Suddenly she was fully annoyed that he’d pointed Leo out to her, _as if she couldn’t find it on her own._ And what would people think if he kept jumping in on her personal matters? It was _her_ family, not his. 

“I don’t need you to defend me.” She said, her voice trembling. 

Jaime hated to hear her so upset. 

“I know you don’t need me to.” He said sadly. And he truly did know that. His sister was stronger than anyone he’d ever known, but her strength was mental more so than physical, and she didn’t seem to realise that, much to Jaime’s dismay. They were two halves of a whole, and if he’d been given the physical strength, then he would protect her softness, whether she wanted him to or not. Jaime couldn’t bare the thought of her being hurt. It had always been that way. And he couldn't bare the thought of Robert touching her, being with her. She was _his_ , not Robert's. She was _his_.

“I know you don’t need me to.” He repeated, “But I can’t help it, Cersei. I just… can’t.”

He wished for his sister to turn to him, tell him she understood, but she didn’t. She didn’t so much as move.

Jaime waited there a while, still watching her, marveling at her and wishing he could properly appreciate her beauty. At least she was speaking to him. That was a good start. 

“Please leave.” She said after some time. 

Jaime felt his heart sink. But he would respect her wishes. He always tried to it was just that sometimes Robert pushed him too far. Some things he just could not allow. 

"Merry Christmas, Cersei." Jaime whispered then, barely breathing the words as he leaned in carefully and kissed her cheek before she could pull away. He set a red velvet box in her lap before turning and walking away, gravel crunching again under his feet. 

It wasn’t how he’d planned to gift it to her, but he wanted to give her her Christmas gift _on_ Christmas. Cersei’d had a gift for Jaime as well, as they always gave each other their own private gifts, but she couldn’t stand the thought of giving him a gift now, not when she was so very upset with him. 

Cersei looked down at the box and set her jaw.

_How dare he._

“Do you think you can fix this with bloody _Christmas gifts_?” She yelled now, her rage flowing out of her. “D’you think you can placate me with some jewelry and some charming words and we’ll just go back to fucking in the bloody _car_?”

It was risky of her to shout that so loudly, but she was so upset she couldn’t be bothered to run her words through a filter. She was sick of keeping everything bottled up, and sick of sneaking around like teenagers, and sick of feeling so powerless. 

Without even opening the box, she threw it at Jaime who’d turned around to face her. It hit him in the chest and he’d flinched and tried to catch it but it fell into the gravel. 

The hurt was plastered on his face as much as hers. Cersei stood and marched toward him, and Jaime thought she might slap him. Tears danced in her eyes and her cheeks had grown red. 

"Merry _fucking_ Christmas." She growled through gritted teeth, kicking the jewelry box for good measure - with her best evening heels, no less - and sending it flying another few feet into the dust. Then, she shoved her way past Jaime and stormed back into the hall. 


	6. If You're Not There To See

The next day in Copenhagen consisted of Jaime continually being spurned by Cersei as the family trekked about the city. That night, their last one in Denmark, the family met for dinner in the hotel. Jaime, Joffrey, Tyrion and Tywin had all been waiting in the common room for Cersei, Robert and the children. They'd had a six o'clock reservation, but it was now quarter past. 

Through the door to Cersei and Robert's room, the four men could hear muffled shouting and then crying. 

"Should we ..." Tyrion asked without finishing his question. 

Jaime had been debating kicking the door down, but he couldn't pull another stunt like he'd done the other day. Cersei would never speak to him again. 

There was more shouting, more crying. Jaime tried his best to hear what it was about, but the walls were too thick. He wasn't sure it mattered anyway. He already hated Robert enough as it were, he didn't need more reasons. 

Robert was the first to emerge from the room, flinging the door open, his cheeks red from shouting. And he was followed by Cersei who was sporting a whining Tommen who clung to her neck and a sniveling Myrcella who clung to her leg.  Cersei looked equal parts exhausted and furious. 

Nobody mentioned the fight all night. In fact, that night, Tywin offered to stay home with the children after dinner so the adults could go out on their own. Perhaps he figured a bit of downtime would be good for them. 

Jaime waited out in the common room for everyone to get ready after dinner.  Cersei and Robert were ready before Tyrion. Cersei eyed Jaime as she walked into the common room. Jaime tried not to eye her back. She looked fucking perfect, as if he'd expected anything else. 

"Tyrion's not ready." Jaime said as Cersei and Robert made for the door. Jaime couldn't help glancing at her backside as she walked away from him. 

She wore a tight black dress with black heels and a black leather jacket which all contrasted starkly with her golden mane that Jaime so loved. 

"We'll be out on our own for a bit, then." Robert mumbled, as Cersei fixed her lipstick in the mirror. 

Tommen came rushing out of his room, interrupting them before Jaime could protest. 

"Mumma!" He shouted, his arms outstretched for her. 

She leaned over for him and Jaime looked away, not allowing himself even the opportunity to become aroused at the sight of her. Gods, how _he_ would love to be the one bending her over. 

Cersei lifted Tommen up.

"Mumma, lipstick kisses!" He giggled, his hands all over her beautiful face. 

Jaime looked on now, curiosity getting the better of him. 

Tommen puckered his lips and Cersei kissed him there making an exaggerated smooching sound. Tommen giggled uncontrollably as Cersei tickled his belly and then kissed him all over his face. 

"Too many mumma!" He shreiked in delight. 

Cersei was smiling brilliantly. 

Myrcella peeked out of the room to see what the commotion was. 

Cersei kissed a beaming Tommen one final time before putting him down, red lip prints all over his face. Jaime smirked. He liked when Cersei left lip prints on _him_ too.

"Daddy and I will see you in the morning, love. Be good for grandpa."

Jaime scoffed at that. _Daddy._

Myrcella padded over and lifted her arms up for her mother who bent down again to hug her daughter and kiss her on the cheek. 

"I love you." Cersei said, smiling and smoothing the girl's hair out. 

"Love you, mummy." She smiled back and then hugged Robert's leg. He stroked the girl's hair and she looked up at him lovingly. "Love you too, daddy." She said sweetly. Robert's lips twitched up in a smile as Cersei looked on protectively. 

The children went back off to play and Jaime piped up finally. 

"You can't just wait a few mintes?"

"I'll see you at the bar." Cersei said, opening the door and slipping out, pulling Robert with her.

Jaime felt himself burn hot with jealousy. He should be the one she was toting around. He should be the one she was sneaking off with.

Robert had initially been the one that wanted to leave early, to avoid walking to the bar with Jaime in tow. But truthfully, Cersei had wanted to leave early as well. She knew that, once at the bar, Robert would go off on his own, and she hoped to play on her own for a bit too. 

It proved to be rather easy as, off the bat, a man approached her and bought her a glass of cognac. 

Cersei allowed the man to take a seat next to her. He looked her over, up and down, and Cersei tried her best to ignore it, but it was slightly satisfying to have her own suitors while Robert was off trying to do whatever it was he was trying to bloody do. _Networking,_ he liked to call it. Cersei held her head high, deciding a bit of her own networking wouldn't hurt so long as everything looked friendly enough. She kept her eye on Robert to make sure he was abiding by the same standard. 

"What's your name, love?" The man asked, trailing his fingertips over her wrist. 

Cersei smiled sweetly. "Jane." She answered, happy that he hadn't recognised her. 

The two proceeded to have a rather boring conversation about the man's line of work. His name was Gerald. He was a buyer for a department store. Cersei wasn't interested in his story, but she did enjoy the overt flirting, knowing that it would make Jaime furious. She also enjoyed the way Robert kept glancing over at her. She actually laughed out loud once when they made eye contact. Gerald had been in the middle of telling her something about a business dinner and he stopped and furrowed his brow. Cersei offered no explanation for it, she simply took another sip of her drink and nodded. "How interesting." She lied. 

Jaime and Tyrion had just arrived and Cersei tracked them as they made their way to the bar and ordered drinks. 

When Jaime spotted her and made eye contact, he held her gaze for a moment, looking upset. It was nothing he wasn't used to, Cersei reasoned. Besides, he seemed to need practice in holding in his feelings of anger and jealousy. 

Gerald was flirting shamelessly now but Cersei wasn't having much fun anymore. Jaime wouldn't look at her. It wasn't worth anything if Jaime didn't care. She wanted to make him mad. She wanted to make him as mad as he'd made her, and this was the best way she knew how. When the man reached out and ran his hand up her thigh, it took her so off guard that she slapped it away. She felt violated. It felt so _wrong._ She got up then, ignoring the man's apologies and heading over to the bar to join her brothers, still keeping one eye on Robert. Despite his drinking, he'd actually been behaving.

_"_ I wonder what American girls taste like.” Tyrion said as he took a swig of his beer. 

Jaime shrugged. "Probably the same as everyone else.” _Nobody would taste like Cersei._

Tyrion smirked. “Really?” He stared at Jaime incredulously. 

“What?” Jaime asked, fiddling with the coaster beneath his pint glass.

“Jaime Lannister has _never_ had an American girl?” Tyrion heckled. “I simply don’t believe it.”

Jaime nodded. “Well… believe it.” He took a long sip of beer. 

“Surely you’ve had more exotic girls then?” Tyrion asked. "Brazilian? Russian?"

Jaime rolled his eyes.

“Oh, come brother!” Tyrion exclaimed, “We’ve not had a proper beer in ages! I’ve no idea how you are, I’m merely trying to suss out all the good gossip so I can hold it over Cersei’s head along with _my_ conquests. How utterly _boring_ married life must be.” Tyrion laughed. 

“Now, how is the dating life? Do tell, and don’t spare any of the gory details.” Tyrion finished the last of his beer and promptly flagged down the bartender for another.  
“Not much to tell.” Jaime said, shrugging. And that was truer than Tyrion knew. 

“Come now.” Tyrion persisted. “Surely there have been a few here and there.” he laughed. 

“There’s one.” Jaime conceded, desperate to stop his brother’s prodding. 

“Hm?” Tyrion perked up. “And what is she like?”

“She’s um… she’s strong and whip-smart, and beautiful. Knows just what she wants… she’s stubborn as hell and won’t let anyone tell her _anything_. And she’s ... fucking perfect.”

Jaime stared into his beer. 

Tyrion was silent for so long that Jaime looked up to make sure he was still there.

He was indeed there, gawking at his brother. 

“Jaime Lannister is in love.” He said, almost melodically. Tyrion belly laughed. “Gods you’re so fucking whipped! How is it I’ve never met this woman? How long have you been together?”

“Feels like my whole life.” Jaime muttered, finishing off his beer.

Tyrion eyed his brother knowingly. Jaime looked sad. 

"What's wrong then? In the dog house after yesterday?"

"What?" Jaime asked, alarmed that he might’ve given something away. 

"Not being home for Christmas, I mean." Tyrion clarified, trying to put his brother at ease. Tyrion would never say it aloud if Jaime didn't want him to. 

Cersei joined them then, taking a seat next to Tyrion.

“Sister.” Tyrion said, puffing his chest. “Jaime and I were just talking about the intricacies of the bachelor life. Tell us, how is it on the other side?”

Cersei raised her glass, her eyes gleaming. “Never better.” She said softly, before taking a long sip. 

Tyrion watched amusedly. “Mh. Yes I can imagine. Well, it seems Jaime might be joining you soon.”

Cersei’s eyes snapped up at the mention of his name. Jaime could see the panic on her face. 

“He was just telling me about his little girlfriend.” 

Cersei shifted in her stool. “Oh?” She glanced at Jaime, who hung his head, though he was elated at the hint of jealous concern in her voice. 

“It’s nothing.” Jaime said under his breath. 

“‘Fucking perfect’, I believe he said.” Tyrion boomed. “Tell us more, brother.” Tyrion spurred Jaime on. 

Cersei was quiet, though her mind was racing. Was there someone else? Surely not… Surely he'd have told her. If there _was_ someone she wasn't _serious,_ clearly. All those things he'd said to her... The way he touched her. He'd said he _loved_ her. Jaime wouldn't have someone else. He wouldn't. He couldn't.

“Like I said, there’s really not much to tell.” Jaime said.

“Where is she from?” Cersei asked, trying to sound indifferent.

“Casterly, same as us.” He replied immediately. 

Cersei ran through her mental rolodex of all the single women she knew from Casterly. 

“Did you know her from school?” Tyrion asked. 

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” Jaime said.

“What color is her hair?” Tyrion asked. “Wait! No! Let me guess..." He pretended to be deep in thought. "… red!” 

Jaime couldn’t help but laugh. “She’s blonde.”

Cersei looked over at him, anger coursing through her. If he was fucking some knock off version of her on the side _so help him_. Perhaps she should've let Gerald keep going. Perhaps she should've brought him home and fucked him in Jaime's bed. 

"You already said she was smart." Tyrion made a point to say it loudly. “What about her body?” Tyrion asked. 

Jaime shook his head. “I don’t like to-“

“Oh, boooo!” Tyrion bellowed, “Stop being such a noble gentleman and tell us. Sister, shouldn’t he tell us?”

Cersei shrugged, finishing her drink and ordering another. Gods knew she could use it. 

Jaime looked over at her, admiring her smooth skin, her soft hair, her glimmering eyes, her neck, her collarbones, her hips, her breasts, her hands, her lips, her feet. He’d kissed all of them, touched all of them at one point or another, and he longed to kiss and touch each of them again. He longed for _her_. 

He sighed and caught Cersei's eye while Tyrion was busy drinking. 

“Like I said, she’s fucking perfect.”

Cersei lost her breath for a moment, her eyes locked with his, and she felt an overwhelming sense of relief. He was speaking of _her._ She felt her cheeks flush red. Her brother would not have anyone but her. He was still hers, just as he had said he would be. She felt stupid for thinking it could be otherwise. She cleared her throat and straightened up in her stool, sitting a little higher, now. 

“Mh. Isn’t that lovely?” Tyrion asked, turning to Cersei. "Lovely, lovely. We'll have to meet her sometime. And how is ol’ Robby?”

Cersei rolled her eyes and downed the rest of her drink in record time. 

“Peachy.” She said, getting up from the bar. 

“I’ll let him know you asked.” She said, "Excuse me a moment." 

Cersei made her way to the washroom, shutting herself in a stall and pressing her back against the door. She ran her hands through her hair and exhaled deeply. 

Jaime was still hers. She needed to breathe. Gods, it had been a night. The thought of Jaime with someone other than her was ... Infuriating. And it hurt her to think about. It hurt so much. she bit her lip. Did she deserve that? Was she not just doing the same to him? Did Jaime feel like that when he saw her with Robert?

Back at the bar Tyrion smiled drunkenly at his brother. 

"What?" Jaime asked, half amused and half annoyed at the smug satisfied look Tyrion wore. 

"You're welcome." He said, laughing.

Jaime tensed. "What?"

Tyrion gazed off into his drink. "Oh, nothing, nothing. You're quite smooth, brother. Listen, I shant leave Denmark without fucking a Dane, so if you'll excuse me..." He slipped off his stool and held his drink up toasting Jaime and walking away laughing. "Fucking perfect." Tyrion chuckled under his breath. 

Jaime buried his face in his hands. He hoped it hadn’t been _that_ obvious. Tyrion had known about he and Cersei for some time, but they never spoke about it. Tyrion had actually figured Jaime’d moved on until this trip. 

Cersei returned to the bar then, glancing over at Tyrion who was trying his luck with a group of girls in the corner. 

The twins sat there in silence for some time before Cersei eventually piped up. 

"Right." She sighed, running her hands up and down her thighs. "I think I'll head off then. Feeling a bit tired, actually." She stood and made to leave, and Jaime stood after her. “Let me walk you home." He said, glancing up at her and then adding, "Please." To show her he knew she didn't _need_ his protection. 

Cersei gave him a nod and the two made their way out of the bar. 

They walked in silence for a while before Jaime broke it. "Hey." He said falling in step with her. "Are you alright?" He felt like he was asking her that a lot lately. 

Cersei nodded, feeling strange; slightly guilty. 

"You can talk to me." Jaime said. "You can tell me if you're not."

Gods, he looked so sad. Sullen, really. 

"It's nothing." Cersei tried to assure him, but he was no fool. He knew that wasn't true.

"Just tell me you're safe. Tell me you and the kids are safe."

Cersei stopped in her tracks, turning to face her brother. She felt lightheaded now.

"I would _die_ before I let anything happen to my children!" Jaime could feel the fire in her and it burned hotter than anything he'd ever known. 

"I know, I know." Jaime tried to soothe her, sorry he'd suggested anything.

His sister was married, that was the simple fact of it, and married couples fought some times. But Jaime knew it was more than that. He just _knew_ it. 

Cersei started walking again and Jaime  followed. They walked in silence for another minute before th ey passed an old statue they'd seen as children. 

"Can't believe that's still here." Jaime mumbled, nodding his head toward the old thing. "Nearly cracked my head open on it trying to show you I could climb it."

"Can't honestly believe you remember that." She said after some time.

Jaime nodded to himself. "I remember _you_." He said, smiling.

She'd been so lovely in her little yellow top and jean skirt. It had been summer then. Jaime had wanted to impress her more than anything. He’d wanted to show her how strong he was. She’d doubted his assertions that he could make it to the top, and when he finally had, after nearly falling onto the cement surrounding the structure more than a few times, he stood atop it, triumphant. He smiled brightly downward, only to see that Cersei had gone off to buy ice cream. She hadn’t even been paying attention. It meant nothing. It didn't matter because she hadn’t even been there to see it. 

“I want you, Cersei.” He said quietly. "Please. I'm sorry."

She looked at him, her eyes piercing straight through him. 

He moved closer, his hand brushing her hip. Oh, how wanted to kiss her. He leaned toward her but she stepped back.

"Why are you sorry?" She asked. 

"I- what?" Was it a trick question? Jaime bit his lip and thought about it. He supposed he wasn't sorry about fighting Robert. He wasn't sorry about yelling at Joffrey. He wasn't sorry about defending her. 

“It’s just… you said you’d never let him hurt the kids but Cersei if he ever hurts _you_ , I’ll fucking kill him all the same. I won't let him do that to you."

Cersei was quiet as they arrived back at the hotel. That had answered her question, but she’d already known he wasn’t sorry. She supposed she couldn’t fault him for it. 

"I can defend myself." She said finally, when they'd made it to the elevator. 

Jaime nodded. "I know. But sometimes I get so fucking mad, Cersei. You know Robert. Sometimes he just has it coming."

Cersei bit her lip. She did understand that. And she was rather jealous that Jaime could do more about it than she could. 

"You're the strongest person I know, Cersei. But everyone needs help sometimes, and even if you're the exception, sometimes _I_ need to be strong, too."

Cersei stumbled a bit getting out of the elevator. She'd held herself together up until now, but the her last couple of drinks were beginning to hit her. 

She reached for Jaime to sturdy herself, feeling embarrassed because she knew he was right. Everyone needed help _sometimes_. But it was often difficult for Cersei to include herself under the umbrella of 'everyone'. 

As hard as it might be, though, and as brutally as she might fight it, Jaime was always there, offering his arm without so much as a smirk, never an 'I told you so'. He'd hold her and kiss her and love her and it never made her feel weak when he did those things. Cersei felt badly now that she'd treated him so harshly, but she was still upset. Just because he'd been mad, didn't mean he had to be _reckless._

Jaime helped her catch her balance and walked dutifully beside her until they were safely in the suite. Cersei slid off her leather jacket and handed it to him, letting him go through the trouble of hanging it up for her. Jaime smiled, happy to do it for her. Happy that she'd let him. 

"Oh, my sweet boy. What are you doing out here?" Jaime heard Cersei whisper as he'd been hanging up her jacket.

He turned to see Tommen curled up on the large sleeper sofa, his mother kneeling beside him now. 

"I missed you mumma." He said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "I wanted to see you when you got back."

"I'm back now." She whispered, pulling him into a hug and cradling his head. "I love you so very much, darling, but you've got to go to bed."

"Can I sleep with you and daddy tonight?" He asked shyly. "Please?" 

Cersei shook her head. "you know daddy doesn't like that." 

Jaime rolled his eyes. Robert would stumble in early in the morning and Gods knew he'd wake up the entire city shouting his displeasure at a crowded bed. 

"Can you sleep with me and Myrcella then?" He countered, his lip quivering. 

Cersei smiled softly. "We'll be a bit squished, my love." She whispered, kissing him gently on the crown of his head. Tommen and Myrcella were sharing a twin bed. 

Little Tommen looked heartbroken.

Cersei sighed. "Why don't I sleep with you out here?" She suggested. 

Tommen's face lit up and he nodded. 

Jaime cleared his throat. "Sleep in my bed." He said, hoarsely. He couldn't stand the thought of Cersei sleeping on a _sofa_. 

Cersei whipped around to look at Jaime, her brow furrowed. How could he even suggest such a thing?

"I mean... I'll sleep out here. You two can have the bed." He said, sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. He hadn't meant to suggest they'd _all_ sleep together, no matter how much he'd have liked that. He knew that was out of the question. 

Cersei hesitated. 

"Mumma, why don't you sleep with uncle Jaime like I sleep with Cella?" Tommen asked, bearing all his innocence at once. 

Cersei stroked his hair back. "When brothers and sisters grow up they don't sleep in the same bed anymore." She informed him, and Jaime bit his lip. 

"But I love Cella." Tommen whimpered, confused, as his mother lifted him into her arms. "Don't you love uncle Jaime?" 

Jaime swallowed hard, nearly wincing at the question. 

Cersei rocked her baby boy as she turned to face Jaime. She let her eyes flick up to meet his for a brief moment. He looked like a lost puppy, Cersei thought. Had he really expected her to say no?

"I do." She said softly, tearing her eyes from Jaime's before she could see the longing on his face. She turned again, carrying Tommen into Jaime's room. She set the boy down in bed and tucked him in. 

"I'll be right with you, sweetling." She whispered, kissing his forehead. 

She took a pillow and a blanket and carried them out to the common room for Jaime, was stripping down to his underwear.  Cersei stood there a moment, unseen by Jaime, her eyes reflecting the moonlight as she watched her brother undress.  He was beautiful. He was as beautiful as anything she'd ever seen. 

He pulled his shirt over his head and Cersei admired the long lines of muscle in his arms, his chiseled chest. Jaime caught a glimpse of her when he'd finished. Cersei realised she'd been holding her breath watching him and she let it out in a quick huff when he offered her a smile.  Cersei did not return the gesture. All the same, Jaime moved toward her and took the pillow and blanket. 

"Thank you." He whispered, his lips just a little too close to hers. 

Cersei stared at them and then reached out gingerly until her fingers touched him gently at the center of his chest. 

She kept her eyes focused on where she touched him, feeling his warmth, the roughness of his chest hair. And then she let her hand fall slowly down his chest, her fingers trailing over his muscle. She realised he had gooseflesh now. She kept her palm flat on his stomach when she'd reached it, feeling his heartbeat thrumming there. Jaime reached out and ran his fingertips gently up her arms, giving her gooseflesh as well. 

She could feel herself wanting for him, her body leaning forward, warring with her mind, begging it to give in. It would have been _so_ easy to press herself against him. It would’ve felt _so_ good. But she wouldn't. She snapped herself out of it by withdrawing her hand. 

"Goodnight." She whispered, turning and walking back to his room. 

"Cersei." He whispered after her, but she didn't turn around. 

Cersei curled up with Tommen in Jaime's bed then. She pulled the covers tightly around them and breathed in deeply. The sheets smelled of her brother and she loved it. She loved him. She loved him. She did. She closed her eyes and slept deeper than she had in a long while. 


	7. Worth It

Cersei dreamt of Jaime that night. She dreamt of the time just after she'd given birth to Joffrey. She'd been so bloody tired all the time that she'd barely had any time for herself let alone Jaime. And she'd felt awfully about that. Jaime had been so good to her through everything. When Robert would stay out late, Jaime would come by and do all their dishes, their laundry, take out the rubbish, cook dinner - whatever needed to be done, he'd do it. And he didn't get much of a reward for it, as Cersei remembered. She'd hardly even let him hold Joff. She'd just been so afraid that something was going to happen to him. 

She wasn't even sure Joffrey was the one Jaime had wanted to hold, anyway. Gods, the way he'd looked at her then, as though he were _starving_ for her. He'd curl up with her sometimes when she'd allow it and he'd wrap his arms around her and press his lips to her neck and tell her how much he wanted her still, he'd tell her how beautiful he thought she was even while her shirt was covered in spit up and her hair was tangled and disheveled and her eyes were nearly purple from lack of sleep. She'd appreciated it, even if she hadn't been able to show it then. She'd needed him even if she hadn't been able to admit it. 

One particular night while Robert was away, as he so often was when there were crying babes in the house, Jaime stayed with her. He'd woken up with Joff and was rocking him, whispering to him of how he'd always protect him and that he shouldn't be afraid. Cersei smiled as she watched the two of them from bed, not completely sure she wasn't dreaming. But no, Jaime had been there. It had been real. 

She felt herself ache for her son that night as her brother rocked him, and Jaime turned to her, thinking she was still asleep.  He'd apologised when he realised she was not and that made her smile a bit more. He was sweet.  She'd pulled her nightdress down to feed Joff and felt Jaime's eyes on her. 

Sometimes it was hard, wondering what he thought of her changing body. She tried to tell herself it didn't matter. She'd been defensive, but he made her realise she didn't need to be.  He looked on lovingly as she fed their son and pressed his forehead to hers. He'd told her he loved her and she'd said it back. 

There had been days where she thought she might not make it if it weren't for Jaime. When she doubted herself he'd remind her of whatever she needed. Was she smart enough to start her own law firm? _The smartest_ , he told her. Of course she could do it. He'd been right. Was she a good enough mother to go back to work? _The best_ , he'd told her, and it had worked out well enough. Jaime had helped babysit when she'd needed it.  Was she beautiful still even after three children? _More beautiful than anything_ , he'd said, and the way he worshipped her body still, more so even, showed her he meant it. 

And her most terrifying question:

_Am I worth it_?

It was a question she'd only asked him once, just after Joffrey was born. Jaime had been beaten down then, burdened with figuring out his new role, putting up with Robert, vying for her affections. She'd been shouting at him just before she'd asked it. It had been earlier that night, the same night she'd been dreaming about. 

Joffrey had been screaming because he was hungry, and Cersei had been screaming because Robert was leaving _again._ It was normally something she looked forward to; his absences, but he’d questioned her ability to care for their son while he was gone and that had set her off. Additionally, her father had been asking Robert to take on more responsibility in the company and she was jealous. She'd thrown her jewelry box at him, after he'd shouted at her to take better care of _his_ son. As if Cersei weren't doing all she could. She'd made him so mad that he crushed the box under his foot, twisting and stomping until the glass had crumbled into tiny pieces and all its contents were scattered and broken. Cersei had screamed at the him until her throat felt like it was on fire. When Robert left, Cersei fell to the floor, salvaging what she could of her jewelry. When she brushed some broken glass aside, she realised her mother's necklace, the one with the little golden lions, rubies for their eyes, the one Cersei had treasured so much that she'd never even _worn_ it, had been broken to bits. She sobbed then, just as hard as she ever had. Everything inside of her just _hurt._

And that had been when Jaime arrived, refusing the offer their father had made him to come along with he and Robert so that he could stay with his sister instead. 

When Jaime had tried to talk her down, pressing his face to her neck, kissing the hot tears from her cheeks, when he'd held her shoulders and begged her to tell him what had happened, she'd gotten so mad that she slapped him. 

It had been far from the first time, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, but he wasn't expecting it and he flinched back, releasing her. Then, for good measure, she shoved him. And when Joffrey began crying harder she took Robert's shoe from the floor where she sat and whipped it at Jaime. 

"Just leave!" She'd shouted at him. "Leave!" She didn't need him. She didn't need anyone. Everyone she'd ever cared about in her life had left her and everyone she'd wanted to care had ignored her. 

Why would Jaime be any different? He had _everything_. He was handsome, strong, he had a cock - which meant father would actually take him seriously. He didn't need her. Why was he there? What did he want?

The shoe at hit Jaime on his shoulder. She'd expected him to be mad. She'd expected him to fight back, or otherwise leave, but he didn't. 

He reached out to her, where she was crumpled on the floor, her knees bleeding from the broken glass of her jewelry box, and he pulled her against him. He held her as tightly as he could and she'd struggled against him, sobs wracking her entire body. She’d scratched his face, ripped buttons from his shirt, kneed him in the chest, but he held her still. 

And it made her calm. After some time she stopped fighting him. She clawed at his back then, but not to hurt him, she’d just needed him close. She’d buried her face in the crook of his neck, hiding all of her sobs there. Her bloodied knees stained his pants and her cut up hands ruined his shirt, but Jaime didn't care. In fact, he couldn't have cared less.

Jaime held his sister close, whispering gently in her ear that everything would be alright and she was _good._

_How could she be good!?_ She’d thought. _I’m a monster!_ _A child at best, with an unforgivable temper._ But Jaime didn't seem to care. He clutched her as tightly as she clutched him and he rocked her until her sobs subsided. 

When she pulled back she showed him the necklace because she knew he'd be upset with her for it; for being so forgetful and careless. That necklace _was_ their mother. She'd worn it all the time and she'd entrusted it to Cersei. It had been her responsibility and she had failed. 

Jaime took the necklace from her gently and studied it for a moment before setting it gently in the pile of other jewelry beside them. He took her face in his hands and he looked into her eyes, puffy and red from crying, but still reflecting green back at him and he caressed her cheeks with his thumbs, his gentle touch soothing her. He pressed his lips to her forehead, kissing her and whispering to her "It's not your fault." 

Cersei pulled back and looked at him. His lip was bleeding and she realised she must've hit him there. He looked as bedraggled as she did.  She felt her lip begin to quiver as she searched his face for any shadow of doubt. There was none. 

That was when she'd asked it:

"Am I worth it?” 

Tears began to fall again. They were soft tears this time, more pain and less anger. She hadn't even realised they were falling until Jaime wiped them away for her. 

She’d meant so much by her question and Cersei was sure by the way Jaime looked at her that he understood the depth of it. 

"You're worth more than anything, Cersei. You're the only thing that matters." He’d told her.

She'd whimpered then, a sound she was unfamiliar with, and Jaime had gathered her into his arms and carried her off to clean her wounds.  When he'd gotten her settled in bed, when Joffrey was fast asleep, she'd asked him to sleep with her for for first time since before Joff had been born. 

"Please stay." She'd begged, as if he'd ever refuse. 

And later that night, after he'd gotten up with Joff, after she'd fed the child and they were all huddled together in bed, her head on his shoulder, eyes heavy with sleep, he'd whispered to her softly, "You'll always be worth it." And he kissed her head and then she felt him smile against her. "That was a stupid question." He added. And she laughed and pressed herself further against him.

* * *

"Mumma! Grandpa says time to wake up!"

Cersei opened her eyes just enough to see Tommen kneeling over her on the bed in his t shirt and dinosaur underwear.

"Mh." Cersei mumbled, reaching for him. He fell against her and she held him close, closing her eyes and breathing in his scent. He still had that baby smell even though he'd been out of diapers for the better part of a year now.

"Mumma." Tommen huffed in his lovely Irish whisper, his breath hot on her face. "Grandpa says we have to leave."

"What time is it?" She asked, though she didn’t truly expect Tommen to know.  She rolled to the side to check the clock only to gasp and jolt up from bed. 

"Come, come come." She rushed Tommen into her arms and whisked him from the room. 

Jaime had had the foresight to pack the night previous and still slept on the sofa. Cersei couldn't help watching him for a brief moment as she made her way back to her room. He hugged a pillow close to his chest the way he would hold her when they slept together, and he was all tangled up in the sheets. He always did move about in his sleep.

Cersei set Tommen down. 

"Go pack all of your things up, have Myrcella help you and have her do the same alright?" 

Tommen nodded and hurried into his room. Robert was packing his things when Cersei entered their room. 

"Kicking your brother out of his own room?" He chuckled. 

Cersei paid him no mind, knowing that she needed to get everything together in about twenty minutes so they could catch their next flight.  She rushed around her room collecting everything and cursing herself for not packing earlier like Jaime had.  Just as she was finishing up, there was a shriek. 

_Myrcella._

Cersei rushed into the children's room catching another glimpse of Jaime who'd been woken up from the sound. 

"What's wrong?" She asked as she saw her daughter on the floor. 

"Mummy! Someone took Lilly!" Tears were streaming from Myrcella's eyes as she looked up at her mother, clutching Lilly's terrarium in her little hands. 

Cersei fell to the floor with her daughter, taking the little plastic container into her own hands. 

"I'm sure she's hiding, darling." Cersei said, relieved that nobody had been hurt. She searched the container but saw no trace of Lilly. 

"She's gone, mummy!" Myrcella wailed. 

Oh, it broke Cersei's heart to see her daughter that way. 

"We'll look for her." Came a voice from the doorway. It was Jaime. 

"Yes, love. We'll all look, but we need to be quick about it." Cersei said, satisfied that Jaime had come to check that their daughter was alright. 

Myrcella nodded, sniffling. 

"Boys, help your sister look for Lilly." Cersei said to Tommen and Joffrey who'd been quietly watching. Tommen nodded and got on the floor to look. Joffrey stayed on the bed, ignoring her yet again. Cersei hadn’t the time to scold him now. 

Instead, she made her way out into the common room, careful where she was stepping. 

Gods, she should never have allowed Myrcella to bring that bloody crab on holiday in the first place. 

Tywin wheeled his bags out by the door. "Ten minutes." He informed Cersei, who ignored him, eyes set on the ground. 

Ten minutes passed and no crab was found. Myrcella was hysterical and Cersei didn't know what to do. They needed to _go_. 

Jaime picked the little girl up and she wailed into his chest. 

"Myrcella, love," Cersei cooed, "I'm going to have the hotel staff scour the room, alright? If they find her they can send her to us." Myrcella didn't look up. 

"This is bloody ridiculous. I'll get you another one." Robert scolded her, and she clung tighter to Jaime's shirt. 

"It's ok." Jaime whispered, rubbing her back. 

"Let's look for a bit longer." Cersei suggested, looking to her father. 

Tywin shook his head. "We haven't the time." He hissed, annoyed that Cersei was pushing their time constraints yet again. 

"I've got to use the bathroom anyhow." Tyrion said, nodding at Cersei who looked endlessly appreciative. 

Tywin huffed. 

"We've got a few more minutes, then." Cersei said, walking away from the sound of Robert's jeers. 

Cersei went back into the children's room to do one final sweep.  She followed the baseboard around the perimeter of the room until she got to the far side of Joffrey's bed where she noticed several unused tissues in his wastebasket.  She lifted a few of them to peek under and gasped, jumping backward. 

Under the tissues was Myrcella’s precious Lilly, legs torn from its smashed body. 

Cersei covered her mouth with her hand to muffle her gasp and quickly hid the remains back under the tissues. It would do Myrcella no good to find out about it now. Perhaps she would buy her a new crab and tell the girl that the hotel had shipped it to them. But what had happened to it? Surely Joffrey wouldn't've done that to it on _purpose?_ But why hadn't he spoken up about it if he’d known?

Cersei joined the rest of the family back in the common room.

"We're leaving." Tywin said as Tyrion rejoined them as well. "Now."

"No!" Myrcella cried. 

Cersei glances at Joffrey who looked as though he hadn't a care in the world. 

"Cella." Cersei said, pressing against Jaime's back so she could stroke the girl's hair. "I'm going to have them look for her. We need to leave now."

"Please, mummy, no!" 

Cersei heard Tommen begin to whine and knew he would be in tears in a moment at the sight of his sister so upset.  Tywin stared at her imploring her to _control her children._

_"_ Bloody ridiculous." Robert scoffed, grabbing his bag and marching out of the room on his own. Cersei could have clawed his eyes out. Jaime could have beat him to death. 

"We need to leave, sweetheart." Cersei said, as she saw Tywin turn away, shaking his head and walking after Robert. 

Tyrion looked on sympathetically. 

Cersei lifted Tommen into her arms and motioned for Jaime to follow her. Myrcella cried the whole drive to the airport, which happened to be fraught with traffic; rather unusual for Copenhagen. The family had not been prepared for either delay, and when they finally made it and got through security, they realised that their flight had already been boarded and the doors were closed. 

Cersei couldn't bring herself to look at Tywin and Robert, from what she'd bothered to look at, seemed like he might strangle her right there in front of her entire family. 

Tywin was on the phone with his assistant, scrambling to call in the private jet, as there wasn’t another flight leaving for their destination that day. But waiting for the jet would put them even further behind and there was a client meeting scheduled for the next day that Tywin couldn’t bear to cancel.

When he hung up the phone, he informed everyone that their best option was to take an overnight train. 

Myrcella was in hysterics in the middle of the airport and Cersei was doing her best to calm her amid the seething, hateful stares from Robert and Tywin. 

"Lovie, you understand why we can't go back, don't you?" Cersei asked, kneeling in front of her daughter."We've got to keep going, we're on a schedule and we've already missed our flight." 

Had Cersei not already known the fate of poor Lilly she'd have stopped the world from turning to search for the creature just so poor little Myrcella would stop crying. 

She could see Jaime watching her from the corner of her eye. He knew something was off.

Myrcella pushed her mother away.  "No!" She sobbed, turning away. 

It was unlike her to spurn her mother that way, and Cersei felt lower than low.  When she stood, Jaime approached her, running his hand over her back; not too low, just in a brotherly way, and Cersei appreciated the gesture.

The family spent the rest of the day getting to the train station and waiting around for Tywin to adjust their plans accordingly now that they were to be almost a day late.  When they finally boarded their train, it was dinner time. Everyone was hungry and tired from a day’s worth of confusion.

When family settled down in the dining cabin for a meal. Nobody was very happy, and Cersei especially felt on edge. Not only had she been thinking about Joffrey all day, but Myrcella had been angry with her for forcing her to leave the crab behind, and Tywin and Robert were both outwardly furious and disappointed. 

“About the bunks…” Tywin sighing deeply as the family ate their respective meals. “There weren’t many to go around since we had to scramble to get tickets at the last minute.” He looked directly at Cersei in disgust as he said it. Even their money couldn’t get them out of this one. 

“We’ve got a four person bunk, a shared four person bunk with three open beds which is male gendered, and a single.” He said. “I’m assuming Cersei, you’ll sleep with the children in the four person.” 

Cersei nodded, looking down at her hands. 

“I want daddy to sleep with us instead.” Came the voice of an angry Myrcella. J

offrey did not protest, and Tommen was already asleep, the days events leaving him weary. He was leaning against his mother.  Cersei looked up at Myrcella, hurt beyond words. 

Robert smirked. He loved making Cersei feel like she was inadequate. 

“Well the other bunk is only for men…” Tywin said. He’d planned on having the single to himself, but he supposed he wouldn’t mind spending more time with his sons. He and Jaime could talk business and prepare for the meeting tomorrow so the day wouldn’t have been fully wasted. 

“Oh… Very well, then.” He sighed. “Cersei you’ll take the single for the night.” 

Cersei was destroyed. Jaime could see it on her face.  She couldn’t bare to look at anyone lest she start crying. She simply sat there, stroking a sleeping Tommen’s hair. 

After dinner, she carried Tommen to his bed, where Robert was setting up his bunk. He wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of spending the night with his children, but he liked that they’d chosen him over Cersei. Plus, one was asleep already.  Cersei got Tommen settled and tucked in, and briefed Robert on what to do if he had a nightmare, making sure the oaf knew her bunk number in case Tommen wanted her.  She bid her two eldest children goodnight, but neither of them responded.  She left, rushing to her bunk before she completely broke down. She wouldn’t allow anyone to see her that way. 

But as she turned the corner, she bumped directly into her father’s chest. He, Tyrion and Jaime had been heading to their bunk. 

“For Gods sakes, Cersei, if you cannot hold your family together perhaps it _would_ behoove you to stay home next time before you cause us to completely run our reputation into the ground.” The venom in Tywin’s voice stung at her eyes, and she felt her lip quiver. She saw Jaime step forward, but, afraid of what would happen next, and in an effort to retain a scrap of her dignity, she pushed past them, to her bunk. 

* * *

Cersei lay in her bed, tears falling silently on her pillow. Outside it was dark, but the light from the hallway shone through the blinds covering her door. Cersei thought about poor Myrcella. She loved that little girl so much that it hurt inside. She worried about all her children every day, but Myrcella especially, knowing how cruel the world could be to little girls; women just as well. 

The only thing bringing her even a modicum of comfort then was the fact that Robert likely hated being stuck with his children for the night. But Gods, Cersei missed them. She could imagine Joff, so big now, on the bottom bunk, one leg up and the other crossed over as he lay on his back playing his video games. Tommen would be asleep and Myrcella would be in the top bunk reading… or, should she be so lucky, she’d be in _Cersei’s_ bunk, all snuggled up against her, as _she_ read to _her_. She felt so bloody _lonely._ And her father… He thought she was a complete fool. If she couldn’t hold her children together, he’d never consider letting her represent them in the business sector. He was so disgusted by her. Why? Why did it seem she could do _nothing_ right? Even Joffrey - he acted as though he hated her too, and it was her fault. It was her fault he was acting out lately. 

She looked out the window at what she could see of the passing landscape - middle of absolutely nowhere _,_ Germany. It looked raw outside; chilly and rainy. It matched how she felt inside.

Cersei fell into a semi-slumber, listening to the quiet thrumming of the rain on the window and the rhythmic sound of the train running over the tracks. 

She woke again when she heard the door to her bunk sliding open.  Cersei rolled over, half hoping it was little Myrcella, come to make amends, but could see Jaime’s face half-illuminated by the lights of the hallway.

“You should really lock your door.” Jaime informed her.

"It's open in case Tommen has a nightmare and needs me." She told him. 

“What on earth are you doing?” She asked him, annoyed that he’d woken her. 

“I didn’t want you to be sad alone.” He whispered. “And I missed you.” 

“I’ve just seen you a couple hours ago.” She said, incredulous. 

“I know.” Jaime said, as though that explained it. It did to him. 

They had done this as children. When one of them had been hurt, the other would curl up with them until they both felt better. 

Jaime brought his hand to his sister’s cheek, stroking her there. “It’s not your fault.” He whispered. Jaime stood over her, as her bunk level with his chest, a fold out sofa just under it. 

“It is as far as Myrcella is concerned.” Cersei said, disappointed in herself. 

“She’ll realise soon enough.” Jaime said, trying his best to comfort her. “She knows how much you love her, and I’ve seen the way she looks at you - like you’ve hung the sun and the moon and all the bloody stars. She worships you.” 

Cersei sighed. That somehow made it worse. 

“I’m ok, Jaime.” She told him. “You should go back to your bunk.”

He shook his head. 

“D’you know what she asked for for Christmas?” Jaime said softly, reaching out to gently brush her hair back from her cheek. Cersei let him. 

“She asked for a sponge for her crab.” Cersei’s bottom lip quivered. “And she asked for her mum to be happy.” 

A sob tore itself from Cersei’s lips. She couldn’t help it. 

“No, no, no. Please don’t cry.” Jaime begged. He’d meant to help. 

Cersei reached for him and pressed her face against his chest then. Jaime held her by the back of her head, stroking her hair and trying to soothe her, wishing he could properly hold her. 

Cersei cried for her babies. One was being poisoned by his father while another worried over her mother because of it. 

Cersei clutched Jaime’s shirt tightly. 

“Come here.” He whispered, pulling her up. He’d had enough. 

Cersei allowed him to move her until she was sitting up in bed. He pulled her legs over the edge of the bunk so they were dangling off and he moved between them until he could hug her. She leaned down and rested her head on his shoulder, her face against his neck.  She gasped for air as she cried harder and harder, and Jaime did his best to console her, rocking her and stroking her hair and rubbing her back. 

“She loves you, Cersei.” He whispered to her. “They all do. Joffrey loves you, even though he doesn’t always show it. And Tommen loves you.” He exhaled shakily. “And I love you. _Gods_ , I love you, Cersei.” 

Cersei gripped her brother even tighter then. 

“Joffrey killed Lilly.” Cersei confided, her voice muffled as she spoke against Jaime’s shoulder. 

Jaime was silent, moving his hand to the back of Cersei’s head and trailing his fingers through her hair. 

“It’s not your fault.” He said, finally, turning his head and kissing her temple. “None of this is your fault, Cersei.”

Cersei couldn’t bring herself to tell Jaime _why_ she believed it to be her fault. She couldn’t tell him that Robert hurt her and that the children may have seen it. She couldn’t tell him that or he’d go and pull Robert from his bunk this very instant, while their children slept, and he’d cave the bastard’s head right in. Cersei couldn’t exactly say she _hated_ the thought of it, but then Jaime would be taken away from her, from their children. She would not have that. 

She wished more than anything to tell him. She wished to tell him all those dark things that Robert had done to her, all the ways he’d hurt her inside and out, so that Jaime could help put her back together. She knew he would. He was so bloody good at that. He’d tell her even then that it wasn’t her fault, and perhaps he’d be right, but she couldn’t help but blame herself. She was supposed to protect her children. 

“And father-“ She sobbed, recounting her thoughts from earlier. 

“Fuck him.” Jaime seethed. “He’s no better than bloody Robert.” 

Cersei clung to Jaime with everything she had, crying harder than she’d remembered crying in quite a long time. 

Jaime just held her for a while, feeling completely helpless.

“It’s alright, love.” He said softly, his voice breaking. It hurt to see her so hurt. He felt the same way she did. He was supposed to protect her. He was supposed to protect their children. He felt as though he were failing them. 

But Cersei didn’t feel that way. She was grateful to have her brother there. She was grateful that he was willing to press her until she gave in, until she could let go. She knew it took her a time, and she knew she could be cruel. Jaime was the only one who cared enough to help her through it. She did love him for that, but not only for that. She just loved him.

Cersei shut her eyes tightly, inhaling shakily. She wanted him to know how much she appreciated him. How much he meant to her. 

“I miss you all the time.” She whispered, after she’d worked up the courage.

It was so uncharacteristically Cersei that Jaime wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. 

But she hugged him close, pressing her face to his chest and nodding. “All the time.” She repeated, and Jaime knew he’d heard her right.

His throat was suddenly dry. Cersei was never so tender, never so vulnerable. 

He started to say something - something bumbling about how much he loved her, so he was glad for it when she kissed him instead, before he could make a hopelessly-in-love fool of himself. 

Cersei pulled back until she could see Jaime’s face and she waited for him to wipe her tears away, caressing her face gently with his thumbs. Cersei reached up slowly and wrapped her arms around Jaime’s neck. He watched her intently as she brought her lips carefully back his, whimpering as she kissed him again. His lips were the same lips she’d been kissing since she couldn’t remember, and yet they were the only ones she ever wanted. 

“Cersei.” The breath was drawn from his lungs as she pulled away. 

“Lay with me.” She whispered. It wasn’t a question. She wasn’t asking, but nor was she commanding. It was almost as though she were reciting a fact.

Jaime obliged as he would have anyhow, and climbing into her bunk as she pushed herself back to make room for him. 

They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, even their lips. They kissed for a long time, on and off. Jaime would pause and kiss her cheeks or her forehead or her neck, and the whole while they held each other; Cersei desperately seeking comfort from her brother and Jaime wishing for nothing more than to provide it for her. 

The twins fell asleep that way, tangled up in each other’s arms, Cersei’s tears shared between their faces.

Cersei did not ask her brother that night if she was worth it. She did not ask if their arrangement was worth it, even when she got mad at him for defending her. She did not need to. Jaime reminded her time and time again that she was worth more than gold to him.

* * *

Just before sunrise, the twins were awoken by the soft whoosh of the door sliding open. Cersei thought it had been a dream, but then realised Jaime hadn’t locked the door after himself. She'd been so caught up in everything she hadn't even thought about it.


	8. Margins

"Fuck, Cersei, I can't handle it. They've been up for an hour now complaining they're hungry."

_Robert._

Jaime ducked under the covers pressing himself closely to Cersei. 

"They've got snacks in their bags." Cersei informed Robert, her body tense. 

Jaime held as still as he could, barely breathing. Luckily for them it was difficult to see in the darkness of their cabin, and the bunk was above eye level from Robert's spot in the doorway. 

"Just fucking... They're asking for you." Robert huffed. "just get them so I can go and have a bloody moment's peace." 

He turned and slammed the door shut behind him. 

Jaime stayed under the covers even after Robert had left. Cersei's heart was pounding in her chest, but she wasn't fearful. She felt _exhilarated_.  She slunk down under the blankets and joined Jaime.  He looked at her briefly, meeting her eyes but for a moment before looking away. 

"I'm so sorry." He breathed. "Cersei I wasn't even thinking and then you were crying and I ..." 

He was trying to apologize for forgetting to lock the door, but Cersei chuckled and then Jaime looked up at her, confused. And then she smiled so brightly Jaime thought he might be dreaming, and then she laughed. And it was such a glorious laugh that Jaime couldn't help but pull her face toward his and kiss her with all his might. She laughed against him, unable to stop it and Jaime laughed then as well. She'd been so overwhelmed lately that it felt freeing not to care. It felt freeing to laugh at the insanity of their situation, their reality.

The two of them stayed hidden under the covers just laughing until their sides hurt and then it was Cersei's turn to pull Jaime in for a kiss. They kissed until Cersei couldn't stand it any longer and she rolled over on top of him, grinding her hips against him. 

"Fuck." He huffed, a smile still on his face. 

He was half hard against her when she threw the blanket off them to get some air. Jaime's hands went to her breasts, her nipples were hard now, visible under her shirt and Jaime reached out to touch her. 

"I have to go, I have to go." She whispered, out of breath, trying to convince herself to stop as much as him. She wanted him so terribly. Not to mention this was rather _fun_ ; something neither of them had enough of.

"Oh, Cersei." Jaime groaned, tossing his head back, knowing this wouldn't go any futher, but wanting more than anything for her to stay. 

"Later." She whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, but as she tried to pull away, he captured a fistful of her hair and pulled her back down to him, forcing his tongue into her mouth until she moaned and rolled her hips over him again. 

"I'll hold you to that." Jaime breathed against her lips as he released her. 

Cersei smiled mischievously as she dismounted him and climbed down from her bunk, wrapping herself in a robe and slipping on her boots before heading out, looking back for a brief moment to admire him. 

Jaime lay there in bed for a few minutes more, running his hands through his hair and breathing deeply, trying to cool off and then he laughed again. He laughed to himself as he left Cersei's bunk because _fuck Robert._ Because Cersei was _his._ Because Tommen and Myrcella and Joffrey were _theirs._

Cersei had made her way back to her children's bunk, and when she'd arrived, Robert immediately stood and left. Cersei rolled her eyes but quickly forgot about him as Myrcella and Tommen rushed to her. She lifted Tommen up and hugged him tightly, kissing his cheek. 

"Morning, baby." She cooed. "you're hungry?" Tommen nodded and hugged her tight, still coming out of his slumber. 

She reached down and stroked Myrcella's hair. The little girl looked up at her mother. 

"Mummy." She said, "I'm sorry I was mad." 

Cersei shook her head. "It's alright, darling, I understand." She truly did. "When someone you care for is missing, it hurts." 

Myrcella nodded. Cersei sat down on the bottom bunk, Tommen cradled in one arm, and she held her other arm out for Myrcella.  The girl quickly climbed onto the bunk and fell against her mother, hugging her. “Will they still look for her, though?” Myrcella asked. Cersei nodded and kissed her forehead. “Yes.” She said.  Cersei glanced up at Joffrey who'd been watching them, but looked away as soon as they'd locked eyes. 

"Oh my little loves." Cersei sighed, kissing Tommen and Myrcella each on the forehead.

"Did you have a good sleep, Joff?" She called up to him from his spot on the top bunk.

He shrugged, still not looking up to meet her eyes. 

Cersei got the children dressed and by the time they made it into the dining car for breakfast the train was pulling in to the station.  They ate quickly as Tywin called a couple of towncars to take them to their hotel.

* * *

"Your grandmother always loved Berlin." Tywin was telling the children as they drove their way through the busy streets.  Tywin had elected to ride with the children, eager to give them a cursory tour of the city. 

In the other car, Robert sat in the front seat so as to be able to stretch his legs.  Jaime sat between Cersei and Tyrion in the back.  Cersei and Jaime had been to Berlin only before their mother had passed, and they'd been young. 

Tyrion had never been at all.  He peered out the window, curious to see this new city.

"I've heard so much about the night clubs here. We must go." Tyrion said absentmindedly as he watched the Fernsehturm Tower come into view. 

Jaime smirked. That could be fun. He leaned forward and ran his hand covertly up the side of Cersei's thigh. She was wearing black jeans and a beige knit sweater, her black coat on over them and she looked lovely with her cheeks slightly flushed from the warmth in the car.  Jaime couldn't help himself touching her, and as he glanced over to see her expression, he saw her lip twitch up into a small smile. 

He trailed his hand up higher, his fingers caressing her inner thigh. She opened her legs just barely, almost imperceptibly, but enough to make Jaime shudder.

He'd moved his hand higher and higher then and, just as he was about to reach her center, Tyrion shouted. 

"Sex shops!"

Jaime withdrew his hand, both he and Cersei flinching at the sudden exclaimation. 

Tyrion turned to look at his siblings. "Let's go! Let's go! Driver, pull over!" 

"Not now." Robert moaned from the front seat. "We've got a bloody meeting to prep for." 

Tyrion huffed. "Fine. Later then."

Jaime looked over at Cersei, grinning, wishing he could kiss her, even just quickly on the cheek.

* * *

The family got settled into their new hotel. It was a different setup this time, with Tyrion, Jaime and Tywin each getting their own suites, and Cersei and Robert getting a suite with a conjoined room for the children. 

"Bloody ridiculous." Robert whined to himself as Cersei began unpacking her suitcase. She could hear Tommen and Myrcella laughing in the other room and wished more than anything that Joff would join in their fun. 

"Fucking hermit crab almost making us late. How're we to explain that?" Robert grumbled. 

Cersei sighed and stripped her shirt off, turning away from Robert and slipping another shirt over her head. This one was black, lacy at the top. It was a button down v-neck, spaghetti strap little thing that Cersei loved because it made Jaime drool. She changed into a matte leather skirt with black stockings and slipped on simple black heels. She wore her black coat and carried a black leather purse. Her lipstick was red. 

Robert wore a navy suit with a white dress shirt and a red tie.

Tyrion came over shortly after they'd gotten dressed, as he was staying with the children.  Cersei and Robert were arguing by that point.

"I don't need another fucking disruption to our plan tonight." Robert was saying to Cersei.  "Sit there, look pretty, bat your eyes. Butter 'em up an' all. Answer questions if you have to." 

"If I have something to add to the conversation, I'm going to add it." Cersei fumed, though she managed to keep her voice even. 

"He doesn't want to hear you blather on about business law or whatever it is you think you have to add." Robert hissed.

"I'll do my best not to bore him." Cersei said, rolling her eyes. It wasn't worth getting in a fight over now. 

* * *

Jaime sat with Tywin on a lobby sofa while they waited for Cersei and Robert to join them. Cersei normally didn't come to meetings, but Mace had insisted on meeting the _family_ behind Lioncorp.

Jaime wore black jeans with a black button up shirt and a maroon leather jacket. He knew Cersei loved the jacket on him and he hoped she'd tell him as she had once before. There was nothing in the world like a compliment from Cersei. Twyin's outfit was similar to Robert's, but his suit was black. 

The elevator dinged from across the lobby and Jaime looked up to see Cersei emerge first. 

"Fuck." He muttered under his breath. He knew he was going to be watching her all night. 

They all piled into a town car arrived shortly at a small bar on a back street down town.

"Are you sure this is the place?" Robert asked the driver, who rolled his eyes and mumbled something in German. Cersei smirked.

The bar was a little hole in the wall with a small awning sporting red gothic letters. _Lolita._

Cersei was the first to open the door, forging ahead, a fearless lioness.  Jaime followed suit as he always did, and Tywin shrugged at Robert, following behind his children. 

"Gods." Robert mumbled before joining them.

The bar was no less seedy than its surroundings. It was dark and grungy with neon signs and dart boards lining the red painted walls. The only windows were small and rectangular some eight feet off the ground so that they provided a bit of light but nothing could be seen from the outside in, or vice versa. The floor was hardwood painted black. There were a few men at the bar, some by the dartboard.  They turned and stared so hungrily and blatantly at Cersei that Jaime made it his mission to put himself directly in front her as she sat at the bar, blocking her from everyone's view. 

Cersei couldn't have cared less. She'd hardly noticed the men. She was here to drink and to impress her father. 

"Robert!" A voice boomed from behind them, and the four of them turned. 

"Mace! Good to see you!" Robert boomed right back. 

They embraced, Robert slapping the man loudly on his back. 

"This is the lion himself Tywin Lannister, owner of Lioncorp. And is Jaime Lannister my co-operator the lion cub himself." Robert laughed. Mace shook hands with the both of them. 

"And this is... Uh, this is my wife." Robert tacked on, hurriedly. 

"Cersei Lannister." Cersei said smoothly, reaching her hand out. The man took it readily. 

"She's a barrister. Business law." Jaime added. 

Mace raised his eyebrows. "Charmed." He bowed his head and Cersei smiled.

"Mace Tyrell." Robert said, introducing the man but staring at Cersei incredulously. "Owner of Mindgarden Inc."

"We do international tech." Mace said. 

"You work with Apple, don't you?" Asked Jaime. 

The man nodded again. "We're looking to expand. Make a name of our own, actually." 

"We'll, why don't we get a booth and chat about how we might be able to help you." Tywin suggested.

Mace shook his head. "Let's play first." He nodded toward the pool table in the corner. 

They played singles as they drank.  Mace played Tywin first whilst everyone else looked on.

Jaime stood close to Cersei as they watched. He was feeling protective of her. He kept glancing around the room and catching different men looking at her.  _She's mine._ He wanted to show them. He wanted to run his hand over her back, hold her at her waist, maybe lower. He wanted to kiss her and he wanted her to kiss him back so that they could show everyone that he was hers too. 

But he couldn't. Instead, he stood close and played the role of protective brother, eyeing all the men back without Cersei even noticing. 

Watching Tywin and then Robert lose to Mace helped a bit. Cersei seemed to enjoy it, too. 

Jaime was next. 

He was struggling. Jaime wasn't great at pool, but he could feel Cersei watching him and he wanted to impress her. He looked up at her as he was lining up his shot, and it proved to be a mistake. She was too bloody gorgeous standing there in that neon light. 

_Fuck._ He thought again. He’d have done anything to throw her on that table and show her and everyone else who thought she’d even look in their direction how much he meant it when he said she was _his_.

She was biting her lip watching him now, willing him on.  Jaime could hardly focus. He’d aimed all wrong and when he shot, he ended up scratching, sinking the eight ball. 

_shit._

”Well." Said Tywin, getting slightly nervous that perhaps they would lose the partnership as well. "Shall we talk now?"

"We've got one more game to play." Mace said, nodding at Cersei. 

Cersei looked up at him unexpectedly along with the rest of her party. 

“Her?” Robert asked. 

Mace simply smiled and handed her a pool cue. 

Cersei smiled back. She’d not played pool since her university days, but she’d been quite good in her time. 

Jaime smirked because he, of course, knew this. 

Cersei was a sight leaning over the pool table in her tight leather pants. Jaime couldn’t help himself glancing at her whenever she bent over. What was he to do? Ignore it? She was in bloody _leather._ Besides, nobody else in the bar would notice he was checking out his sister because they were all too busy doing exactly the same thing. 

Jaime admired her hands on the pool cue. They were so … pretty. Her slender fingers bedecked with golden rings here and there, her manicured nails, painted and matching the red of her lips. She handled the cue gently, delicately. Her form was unique. She’d press the tip of her finger flat on the cue and with her other hand she’d create the daintiest bridge he’d ever seen. But then she’d shoot and her body would move so elegantly, all her energy seeming to zap directly through her and into the cue, finally transferring to the ball. 

And she was good, still. 

“You’re a real shark.” Mace said, nodding his head as he watched her sink ball after ball.

_A lion,_ Cersei thought to herself. 

“So what interested you in business law?” He asked her. “Why not work for the family company?” 

Cersei glanced up at Tywin while she lined up a shot. He was staring at the ground. It wasn’t something they discussed. 

“Lioncorp is an amazing company.” She said, biting her tongue for a moment while she shot; her first miss. She sighed. “But companies are like families, and they can be rather … delicate. You’ve got rules you have to follow in your family. You’ve got roles that need to be fulfilled, and then you’ve got actual societal laws. If you don’t follow all of those rules, your family won’t be viable.”

Mace took a shot, missed.

“The dynamics of it all fascinated me and I suppose I began to think of it in the scope of business because I was around it so much anyway. I grew up in a business. I put a lot of thought into how to keep companies and businesses viable, the same as a family. If you don’t work within the scope of the law, your business is not going to be viable.” Cersei said as she shot and sank another ball. “Once you figure that out, your next step is to work just at the margins of those laws. And internally, you’ve got to think about what values are important to uphold. Once you’ve got all of it figure out, your company won’t just be viable, it’ll be thriving.” Another shot, another ball in the hole. Jaime smirked. He was proud of his sister. “Suppose it might be simpler than families, actually.” Cersei said, looking up at Mace, who’d been transfixed by her. 

Tywin, even, had been impressed. 

Robert tried to ignore the obvious approval she was getting. He was the one that was meant to do the impressing. 

She sank shot after shot, hitting angles Jaime hadn’t even thought possible. By the time she’d sunk all but the eight ball, she’d drawn a crowd around them. 

“I like what you said about businesses and families. They certainly can be complicated.” Mace said, watching her line up her final shot. 

“You’ve no idea.” She said, eyeing the cue ball. Jaime nearly choked on his beer. 

“I’ll tell you what.” He said. 

Cersei looked up at him. 

Tywin’s ears perked up. Mace was talking business. 

“You sink this shot, you’ve got me. All in.” 

Robert laughed. “She doesn’t even work for Lioncorp.” 

Cersei bit her lip. 

“Perhaps she should.” Mace smiled.

Tywin fumbled to regain his composure. “Uh, Cersei can certainly help us draft up a contract.” 

The sound of a two balls colliding interrupted them. Cersei had sunk the eight and won the game. 

Mace offered her his hand.  “As a condition, I want you on that contract. And any other contracts we might draw up in the future.” 

Cersei looked up at Tywin who nodded. She shook the man’s hand, her head held high.  Robert’s face had gone deep red and it was all Jaime could do not to burst out into laughter at the way he fumed.

They bid Mace goodbye shortly after, Cersei proud of her accomplishment, and so very satisfied at her husband's annoyance.

Tywin had been so delighted at the new partnership that he decided to take everyone out directly afterward for a meal to celebrate.

* * *

They went to an upscale gastropub with something of a club in the back. It was a quirky place, pumping house music, but also somehow elegant in decor and patronage. 

Robert was, as always, taking all the credit for the arrangement they'd just made. Something about _if he hadn’t set the meeting_ up… And Tywin thanked him, something he had yet to do for Cersei.

Cersei ignored them. She sat next to Robert, and Jaime, who sat across from her, still could hardly keep his eyes from her. 

Her long golden hair fell over her shoulders as he watched her reapply her lipstick, almost colour of the wine that she sipped. 

He liked to watch her drink it, her lacquered nails gripping the stem of the glass, the way her lips puckered around the rim, the smudge left behind by her lipstick, and then the inevitable lip smacking afterward. And, when she felt it necessary, the way her tongue darted out to taste the bite of it, left over on the corners of her lips. Gods, he wanted those lips on him. All over him. 

She looked positively _ferocious_ tonight and Jaime was eating it up.

He knew she was pissed that she had to be here in the first place, sat next to Robert like some bloody trophy while her father licked the man's proverbial boots in a way that he would never do for his daughter, not even after she’d won them the deal. No matter how she excelled in her career, it would never rival Robert's accomplishments. Her lack of a cock seemed to be reason enough to assure that. 

Jaime hadn't been keen on the idea of coming out to dinner either but it was well worth it to see Cersei in the state she was in; basking in her victory and yet resentful that it seemed to mean so little to her father. It turned Jaime on as her fire always had. Indeed, Cersei had always been a bit of a hothead, and Jaime loved when she went off, especially on him because it made her hot in other places as well. 

And so there Jaime sat, his elbow propped up on the table, rolling the collar of his shirt between his thumb and index finger as he watched Cersei drink her wine to the sound of her father stroking Robert's ego as vigorously as Jaime wished Cersei would stroke his cock.

When, at last, their food arrived, Robert shifted the conversation to Jaime, who was far too distracted by the fact that his sister had ordered her steak _rare_ to notice he was even speaking to him. For some reason, Jaime was incredibly aroused by that fact, and as he watched her cut into the meat with just the very sliver of a smile on her lips, he felt his cock begin to stir. 

"They didn't expect that, did they?" Robert laughed, looking to Jaime to validate some story he was telling about a previous partnership he’d made. 

Jaime glanced up and nodded, his lips pressed together tightly, trying his best to seem interested, even just slightly. 

Tywin laughed raucously and Jaime returned his eyes to his sister to see her teeth scrape a hunk of red meat off of her fork and then wash it down with her wine. 

She looked up and met his eyes while she took another bite, this time, her tongue curling around the steak before she slid her lips over it.  Jaime had gooseflesh as he watched her.

Tywin, who sat next to Jaime leaned over him and snapped him back to reality. 

"I'll have one more." He said to the waiter that Jaime suddenly realised was standing right next to him. 

When Jaime looked back at his sister she was looking away, out the window. He wondered what she was thinking. He hoped she knew that he was proud of her.  He watched as her manicured nails ran up and down the stem of her wine glass absentmindedly. _Gods_ , she aroused him without even trying. 

Robert, spouting out some rubbish about the deal, eventually mentioned Cersei's name.  Both Cersei and Jaime snapped to attention. 

"Isn't that right, darling?" He asked. 

Jaime's fist clenched and a flicker of rage flashed across Cersei's face. He tried to demean her, belittle with those names to her to make himself feel bigger. 

_Darling._

Cersei scoffed, flashing that half-smile that Jaime loved so, and Robert and Tywin stared at her in confusion. 

"Oh." Cersei cleared her throat and took her sweet time taking a sip of wine, swishing it around before swallowing.  Yes, _darling."_ She hissed upon exhale, swinging her head toward her husband and fluttering her eyes, not having listened to a word he'd said. 

Jaime choked back a laugh and stuffed a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth to hide his amusement. 

Tywin and Robert seemed pleased with her agreeableness and moved on, turning back to each other, and Cersei's face darkened with hatred as she watched her fat boar of a husband suck off each of his fingers after finishing his lobster.  She was _disgusted_ by him. 

Jaime couldn't stand it any longer, he needed to touch her. He needed to tell her how perfect she was. Not just beautiful, though she was. But how smart, and how savvy she was. He extended his leg until he felt hers, running his ankle along the side of her calf. 

And then she shot him that look and _fuck_. He was gone. There was something about that look, so full of disapproval and disdain, serving to make the recipient feel more meek and inadequate than ever before. _That look_. It fucked him up inside and made him want her intensely. It made him hard and knocked the air out of him and he couldn't look away, not until she did. 

He wanted her to take him right there on the table. 

She was the only person in the whole world that could sway him like that, and he'd let her do _anything_ she wanted to him. And similarly, he'd do anything for her. He would worship her body, grovel at her feet, let her hit him and call him names and order him around. He'd do all of it for her and it would only make him want _more_. It would only serve to arouse him further. 

"Kiss me." He would sometimes beg her when they were alone. And she would make him work for it. She made him work for the most trivial things and he _loved_ her for it.  And in the end he knew she would kiss him. And her lips would be softer than the silks she wore, and sweeter than the wine she drank.  She would fuck him up and then she would simply _fuck_ him because she got off on it as much as he did. 

Gods, he wanted those manicured nails in his hair, in his mouth, wrapped around his cock. He wanted her heels digging into his back, pressing him deeper inside her. He wanted her lipstick stains on his chest, his collar, his cheeks, her hair on his shoulder, her tongue in his mouth, her breath in his lungs.  And he wanted her to give him that look again. 

He moved his leg over hers the same way, and her eyes snapped up to look at him again, just as he’d wished, fire burning brightly behind them. J aime exhaled shakily. 

Cersei looked away for a moment, starting back out the window before Jaime felt her heel on his ankle.  He smirked slightly, pleased that she wanted him just the same.  But he soon realised she had different intentions, as her heel worked its way up into his lap and pressed into his cock. Jaime drew in a quick gasp as pain and pleasure seemed to course through him all at once. Cersei pulled her foot away, looking out the window again, unable to contain her amusement. 

Robert and Tywin both looked at Jaime expectantly as if he’d just thought of something exceedingly important to say. 

Jaime cleared his throat. “Uh. Hm.” He pounded his chest with a closed fist. “wrong pipe.” He coughed, taking a long swig of water to seal the deal. 

Robert and Twin seemed to shrug it off, going back to their conversation. 

Jaime sighed. He’d have to calm himself. He’d have to wait. 

* * *

After dinner, they all went to the small club in back. Robert and Tywin were off conversing with some man that they’d bumped into, and it was just Cersei and Jaime at the bar. Just the two of them, alone. 

Cersei sipped on her wine as Jaime finished his rum.  He reached over and ran his hand over the small of her back and she stared daggers at him. He felt his cock stir in his pants. 

"Big boy deal you made." He said.

She shrugged, but basked in the thought that he was impressed. "I had daddy there to help me." She said. 

“And Robert, thank the Gods.” Jaime sighed dramatically. 

Cersei laughed. One, high pitched, sarcastic laugh at the thought of that fat idiot being better than her at anything. ' _The fool couldn't best Tyrion in a height contest.'_ She'd joked to him once. He smirked thinking about it. 

“You were amazing.” He said. 

Cersei shrugged.

Jaime was about to praise her further but they were interrupted. 

"Oi!" Robert stumbled up behind them, double fisting drinks; one was clearly a rum, the other some ridiculously frothy, pink monstrosity with a cherry pierced by the straw. 

"Drink up!" He slammed the drinks down on the bar in front of them, obviously unaware of his own strength.  "Whatever she's on about this'll help!" He boomed, laughing loudly. 

Cersei slumped toward the bar, her cheek in hand, supported by her elbow. 

Jaime lifted his newly furnished rum to Robert in a silent toast, praying the man would leave. In stead, he ran his hand over Cersei's back.  Jaime watched she she slumped forward, waiting for him to get the message, but in classic Robert fashion, he simply continued on. 

"Did my father tell you about the guy he ran into at the market just before we left on holiday?" Jaime asked, knowing Robert wouldn't be able to resist the opportunity to better suck up to the eldest Lannister. He did want his share in the company, after all. 

"'Spose I'll have to ask." Robert said merrily in his drunken state. "Hey, watch this one, she's a real lion when she drinks too much." He grabbed what he could manage of Cersei's ass while she sat, and she jumped slightly at the surprise of it, swatting her claws back, but the man had already made off to find her father. 

Jaime switched their drinks, sliding the rum in front of Cersei, and taking whatever the pink ... _thing_ was. Gods knew she'd need it going home with that imbecile. She looked appreciative but made to finish her wine anyway. 

"How does he manage to dress himself, even?" Jaime asked. 

Cersei smirked, just barely. 

Jaime was furious inside, seeing the way Robert touched her, but he was also used to it, as he was used to Cersei telling him not to beat the oaf to a pulp.  She knew the offer stood, should she ever choose to validate it, and Jaime wished she would. 

He finished the pink drink after some time, and plucked the cherry off the straw, holding it by the stem and bringing it to Cersei’s lips. She could be picky but she _always_ loved sweet cherries. 

She pushed his hand away quickly, though, lest anyone see them. 

"Oh come on." He teased, moving his hand toward her. "Nobody's watching. Robert and father have their heads so far up each other's arses they couldn't see a bloody meteor shower."

Cersei eyed him skeptically. 

"You know it's true." He said, his dimples showing. "And you know you want it." He said lowly. "You _know_ you do."

Cersei bit her lip. 

_Fuck,_ he loved when she did that. 

"You deserve it." He said, his free hand moving to her thigh, nails raking across her sheer stockings. 

She grabbed his wrist, stilling his movements before he could move his hand any higher. Jaime grinned at the look she gave him. She wanted to smack that amused arrogance straight from his face. 

"Come on." He whispered, his fingers teasing her inner thigh gently. 

Her lips parted just slightly as she entertained the thought. 

He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "I bet it tastes so good."

She turned toward his warmth and his hand moved slowly up her thigh.  It was getting harder for either sibling to notice the crowd around them. They were drowning in each other, the rest of the world a blurred, bumbling afterthought. 

Jaime had his arm on the bar, supported by his elbow and Cersei leaned in slightly, bringing herself closer, her tongue ghosting across her lips. 

"Yeah." Jaime sighed, his hand slipping under her skirt. She opened her legs just slightly, as she’d done that morning, to allow him more space. 

He found where her pantyhose ended, and spread his fingers over the smooth skin of her upper thigh.

"It's ok." He said leaning closer. "It's ok to want it."

He could see her breathing harder now, the divot by her collarbone becoming deeper with each inhale. He wanted to kiss her there. He was hungry for her. He slid his hand up just an inch higher until he felt the silk of her underclothes. To his endless delight, she shuddered when he stroked his index finger over her center. 

"It feels good. It feels _so_ good, Cersei. Something that feels _that_ good can't be wrong."  He brushed across her again and she gripped his sleeve.  Jaime glanced around them. 

"Nobody here knows us save father and Robert. Nobody's watching. He looked behind her, pressing his cheek to hers and whispering in her ear as he faced the other way. 

"It's just us."

She opened her legs a bit more, allowing him to start drawing slow circles over the little nub he felt under the silk.  He felt her purr against his cheek and he bit back a grin. J aime nodded, still facing away from her, though he wished he could see her face. He wished he could see what he was doing to her. 

"Nobody's watching." He whispered again, assuring her as he slid his fingers under her silks. _Gods, she was wet._

Jaime grunted at the feeling of her. And he smiled when he heard her breath hitch as he touched her directly, now. 

When he could resist no longer, he lifted his cheek from hers and turned his head back to face her.  Her eyes were dark now, and half-lidded. Her lips redder than before thanks to the way she'd been biting them. Jaime enjoyed the way her tongue was just barely visible between her teeth. It was a look of pure want, and Jaime lived for it. 

She closed her eyes for a moment, unwilling to acknowledge their surroundings. This was risky. It was stupid. All those things she’d said about following rules… Was _this_ working in the margins? Surely not. This was so far out of bounds that the margins weren’t even visible anymore.

And yet, Cersei didn't stop. On the contrary, she began to move ever so subtely against Jaime’s hand.

"You can have it." Jaime said, voice gravelly with want. He was almost fully hard now. "Nobody is stopping us." 

Her eyes fluttered open to lookat him. The breath was knocked from his lungs. She was perfection. 

She leaned forward, and for a moment, Jaime thought she would kiss him. He _hoped_ for it, even, consequences be damned. But she did not. Instead, she moved past him to the cherry and slid her lips around it, pulling it from between his fingers with a gentle suction. 

Jaime could have come right then and there. 

The hand he had tucked up her skirt stilled. S he pulled back as she chewed. Fully aware of what she was doing to him.  Jaime watched her, entranced, his mouth ajar. 

"Nobody's ever stopped me from doing anything." She said seriously, her eyes burning into his. 

She pulled the cherry stem from her lips then, and placed it between his, snapping him out of his daze. 

She pushed his arm out from under her skirt and stood from her stool, turning and sashaying toward the washrooms without so much as a glance back at him.

Jaime exhaled deeply. Nobody _had_ ever stopped her from doing anything. She was damn right about that. Cersei did what she wanted. And Jaime prayed that she wanted _him_. He spit the stem out and reached beside him to the rum she hadn't touched, downing it quickly it before following after her as the warmth of the liquor spread through his chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been posting updates super randomly! I should be posting the next chapter on Saturday!


	9. Tired

Jaime met Cersei in the women's room. At least Tywin and Robert couldn't bother them here.  Cersei was leaning against the sink and Jaime approached her, admiring the way her lithe body sloped.  He stood in front of her, his hand sliding up from her mid thigh and pulling her skirt up slightly as his hand travelled higher. 

He smirked at her. "You do what you want, huh?" 

She nodded her head. 

Jaime hummed. "And what is it that you want?"

She eyed him hungrily and he stepped forward, his thigh between her legs and his free hand sliding over her ass and up her back.

Cersei bit her lip and reached forward, playing with the buttons on Jaime's shirt for a moment, before moving each of her hands to his broad shoulders and sliding them down the leather slowly, feeling his arms flex beneath her. 

"Mm." She sighed. 

Jaime took a step closer, tongue darting out and sliding over his lips. His hands were on her hips now, both of them, and he slid them slowly upward, pushing her shirt up as he went.

"I like you in leather." Cersei whispered as Jaime's forehead hovered just over hers. 

"Mh. I'll wear as much leather as you want." Jaime moaned as he pressed the bulge in his pants against her groin.

Cersei smiled and scrunched her nose at him. Jaime melted at the sight, pressing himself against her and hugging her tightly. 

"I missed you." He pressed his face against her neck, inhaling her scent. What he'd meant was that he missed being close to her. He missed feeling whole. He hated when they fought and he was so glad to be back in her good graces.

Cersei sighed against him, and as they were hugging, they heard a moan come from one of the stalls, followed by another, deeper moan.  Jaime pulled back and bent down to see two sets of feet in one stall; sneakers and heels.  He stood back up already cringing because he knew what Cersei would say. 

“It looks like this washroom’s taken.”  She looked sorry about it at least, and she leaned forward to run her hand gently across the bulge he sported now. 

Jaime groaned. _That_ was not helpful. 

“Sorry.” Cersei whispered, leaning in and pressing a kiss to the angle of his jaw. “Later.”  She slid past him then and back out to the bar. 

Jaime slipped into the men’s room and locked himself in a stall. 

He tried his best to touch himself but having had Cersei so very close he couldn’t bare the thought of it. It wasn’t about the release. He needed _her._ And so he waited some time, thinking about business and responsibilities and other boring things. Eventually, he calmed down. 

As he was about to leave his stall, his pocket buzzed and he reached back for his phone. 

**Tyrion:** _How’d it go?_

**Jaime:** _Cersei sealed it._

**Tyrion:** _?_

**Jaime:** _The guy liked what she had to say about the business and about family._

**Tyrion:** _I’m sure._

**Tyrion:** _Well, let’s celebrate then, meet at Socket?_

**Jaime:** _Socket?_

**Tyrion:** _it’s a club_

**Jaime:** _I don’t think father’s much up for a club._

**Tyrion:** _Cersei said she’d go_

**Jaime:** _she did ?_

**Tyrion:** _Mhm. Sure you don’t want to go? Don’t miss out on the fun._

Jaime raised his brows. He was surprised Cersei had agreed to go, but if she wanted to then Jaime _certainly_ wanted to. 

**Jaime** : _fine. See u there._

He tried not to appear too obviously swung by the fact that Cersei was going, but Jaime was sure Tyrion knew anyway. He had to. He wouldn’t have said anything about Cersei coming otherwise. And what he’d said back at that bar in Copenhagen... he had to know. 

Jaime unlocked his stall and made his way back out to the bar.

Cersei was with Robert, trying to keep him steady. The man was sloshed.  Tywin looked on disapprovingly but he clearly wasn’t surprised. 

“Let’s just get him to the car.” Cersei was saying to Tywin. She was standing under his arm. Gods, she looked so small next to him. 

“Here.” Jaime said, running over. 

Cersei looked up at him and Jaime suddenly felt extremely protective of her, just as much as he’d felt earlier. It mattered not to him that Robert was her husband. He didn’t trust this man around his sister, and he didn’t like the way he acted around her. 

Jaime replaced Cersei under Robert’s arm, and the four of them stepped outside into the brisk air to wait for their town car. 

“D’you still want to go out?” Jaime asked Cersei from under Robert’s arm. 

She looked at him confused. 

“With Tyrion.” Jaime clarified. “He told me you wanted to-“

“I haven’t spoken to Tyrion.” Cersei said, brow furrowed. 

Jaime shut his eyes tightly. _Of bloody course._

“Uh...” Jaime was just about to tell her to forget about it when Tywin interjected. 

“You should go.” He was talking to Cersei. 

“What?” She asked him. 

“Go out. Have some fun. You deserve it.” Tywin said. He’d been unable to look her in the eye as he said it, but he’d said the words nonetheless. 

Jaime watched his sister. The expression on her face was one he’d hardly ever seen her wear; pure surprise, utter disbelief. J aime couldn’t help but smile at it. father _should_ be praising her. 

Jaime swayed a bit under Robert’s weight. _Gods, he’s heavy._

Cersei stared at her father. She couldn’t find words to speak. 

“You did well tonight.” Tywin said. “I’ll take care of him.” He nodded at Robert.

Cersei cleared her throat and shook her head. “The children... I can’t.”

“I’ll take them. They can stay with me tonight. You deserve a night off. Have fun with your brothers.”

The car pulled up, and Jaime was glad for it as he felt his back might give out under Robert’s weight. 

Cersei began to protest. “Father, they can’t - they can’t see him.” She was talking about Robert. She hated it when they saw him in such a state. As much as she despised Robert, his children believed him to be their father. If she couldn’t help them looking up to an oaf, she would at least do her best to ensure they weren’t looking up to a _drunken_ oaf. 

Tywin waved her off. “I know, I know.” He said. “Tyrion will take them to my room before we get in. I’ll call him.”

Cersei seemed unsure. 

And then Tywin did something Jaime hadn’t seen him do with her since they were children. He put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. 

Cersei’s eyes filled with tears. 

“You did well.” Tywin said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And with that, he climbed into the car. 

Jaime snapped himself out of whatever trace he’d fallen into watching his sister, and helped Robert in after Tywin, closing the door after him.  They pulled away and as soon as they were out of sight, Jaime turned to Cersei. 

“I’m fine.” She said before Jaime had even had the chance to say anything. 

“I know.” Jaime said, but he took a step closer anyway, running his hands up her arms. 

Cersei looked away from him and he knew she was blinking back tears. 

“Come here.” Jaime said then, pulling her against his chest. 

Cersei trembled in his arms, her head tucked under his chin. Jaime could feel her eyelashes tickling his neck as she blinked. He  rested his cheek on top of her head. “He’s proud of you, Cers.” He whispered. 

Cersei gripped the leather of Jaime’s jacket. 

“Alright.” He whispered, rocking her gently side to side. 

It was such a strange feeling to Cersei; her father showing her his appreciation. She wasn’t exactly sure how to react. She was happy, she knew that. And she was happy now to have Jaime here. 

“I need to call the children.” Cersei mumbled against him after she’d pulled herself back together. 

“Ok.” Jaime whispered, running his hand over her back once more before releasing her. 

Jaime pulled out his own phone and, as Cersei dialed Tyrion on hers, he googled Socket, where they’d meet Tyrion after Tywin had gotten back to watch the children. 

“Tyrion, can you put me on speaker?” Cersei spoke into her phone. 

“Mumma?” Jaime could hear Tommen’s voice though the phone. 

“Hello, sweet boy.” Cersei sang. “Are your brother and sister there too?” 

“Hi mummy!” Myrcella exclaimed. The smile on Cersei’s face made up for the hurt it caused Jaime to see her eyes still twinkling with tears - Even if they were somewhat happy tears, Jaime just didn’t like to see his sister cry. 

“Joff’s here!” Myrcella assured her mother. 

“Oh my little loves, I hope you’ve had a fun day with uncle Tyrion.” 

“We ate pizza for lunch and ice cream for dinner!” Tommen all but shrieked into the phone. Jaime held back a laugh.

“Oh my goodness.” Cersei sighed, shaking her head, but smiling as well. “I’m glad you’ve been having a good time. Listen, mummy is going to be out for a little while with uncle Jaime. Grandpa is coming back with daddy who doesn’t feel very well, so uncle Tyrion is going to take you to Grandpa’s room.”

“He already did.” Tommen said. “Mummy will we have a sleepover with grandpa?” 

Cersei nodded, smiling. “Yes love. Doesn’t that sound fun?” Cersei bit her lip waiting for an answer. 

“He has a reeeeally big bed, mumma!” Tommen said, excited. “It’s bigger than yours and daddy’s!” 

“Wow!” Cersei exclaimed. “That sounds like it’ll be a lot of fun then. Myrcella, lovie, is that alright with you?” 

Jaime couldn’t help running his hand over Cersei’s back then. He knew she wouldn’t stay out if her children wanted her back. 

“That’s ok, mummy! Grandpa said he has a good book to read us.”

Cersei nodded. “And you, Joff?” 

There was silence on the other end for a moment before Joff finally huffed, “Yeah, whatever.” 

Cersei closed her eyes tightly, trying to remember the days when he was as sweet as Tommen. Well… Perhaps he was never _that_ sweet, but he’d been a mumma’s boy at one point. Now she wondered if he cared for her at all.

Jaime squeezed Cersei’s arm, trying to reassure her. J aime hadn’t forgotten about Joff’s behaviours the past few days, but Jaime’d had a lot going on himself. He made a mental note to address it tomorrow. 

“Alright.” Cersei said. She looked disappointed, and Jaime supposed he couldn’t blame her. She gave each of her children her whole heart, and Joff couldn’t even be bothered to pretend he cared.

“Goodnight, babies. I love you so much. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Bye mummy!” Tommen and Myrcella shouted in unison. 

Cersei hung up reluctantly. 

“Hey.” Jaime said, reaching out to hold her hand. “Tonight is about you. Let’s have fun.”

Cersei nodded. Jaime was right. That’s why she’d been so stressed lately; she never took time for herself. She _did_ want to have fun tonight, and she was glad to be here with her brother. 

“We’re meeting Tyrion at a place called Socket.”

Cersei looked at him skeptically. 

Jaime laughed and shrugged. “If anyone knows a good club it’s Tyrion. I trust him.” He offered Cersei his arm and she took it readily. 

They walked through the streets of Berlin, Jaime keeping Cersei close. He was always weary of new cities, and he _hated_ catching men looking at his sister like she was a piece of meat. Unfortunately it seemed to happen rather often. 

When they finally arrived at socket, there was a group of men gathered outside, all staring at Cersei, tilting their heads to get a better look at her ass. Jaime stepped behind her then, walking close, until they were safely inside. He didn’t like this scene. 

The club was dark, buzzing neon fixtures provided the only lighting, and as they looked around, Jaime realised that Cersei was the only woman in the room.  A few men walked by them and Jaime had the realisation that they weren’t looking at _Cersei_ , they were eyeing _him._

This was a gay bar. 

Cersei seemed absolutely delighted at this prospect, leaving Jaime behind in his bewilderment and making her way to the bar. J aime snapped himself out of it and followed after her. 

“Uh, Cersei…” He said, as he watched several men track his movements. One fluttered his fingers in a wave at him. 

“Cersei, this is a gay bar.” Jaime said, taking a seat next to her at the bar and speaking into her ear over the thumping of the music. 

Cersei turned to him and cocked her head. “Really?” She asked, sarcastically. “I hadn’t noticed.” 

The bartender was wearing a harness. “And anything for you beautiful?” He asked Jaime in a German accent. 

Jaime blinked several times, not fully realising that he was being addressed. When he finally came to, he ordered a gin. 

“You’re a lucky woman.” The man said, winking at Cersei as he slid Jaime his gin. 

Jaime rather liked that. He turned to Cersei beaming, and Cersei rolled her eyes at him, but he could tell she was stifling a smile. 

“Oh! Helloooo, leather boy.” A man called to Jaime in a thick accent as he took a seat beside him, running his hand over Jaime’s back. 

Cersei almost couldn’t contain her glee at the look of uncertainty in Jaime’s eyes. Now he knew how she felt amongst most groups of straight men at bars.

It was rather cute the way he was reacting to all the attention. He was so obviously not used to being the pursued this aggressively. Women _loved_ Jaime, that was true, but they were never so aggressive with their affections. 

Jaime was both bashful at and appreciative of the compliments. He would glance over at Cersei every so often, smirking at her with those dimples, and half blushing, and Cersei _loved_ it. She loved that Jaime was being doted on, she loved that he looked to her each time he received a compliment - almost as though he were asking her to validate it, she loved that all of these men wanted him, and she especially loved that none of those men could have him. He was _hers_. She could give him something none of them could. In fact, she could give him something that nobody else in the entire world could. 

But Cersei was also only human. After a while she began to feel a pang of jealousy, and she wanted him, too. And so when she and her brother had finished their drinks, and Cersei decided she was feeling sufficiently buzzed, she dragged Jaime out onto the floor and they began to dance. 

It had been so bloody long since they’d done anything like this. Thinking back, the last time must’ve been in university. But even then, it had been secretive, rushed. Here, nobody knew them. They could do as they pleased. 

Cersei turned her back to Jaime, sliding against him until she could feel his warmth on her. She felt his breath, hot on her neck as they began to sway together. Jaime’s hands instinctually went to her hips, holding her there, and sliding across her stomach.  The lights were flashing now around them, and the whole club seemed to be thumping with the beat.  Cersei worked her hips the way he liked and soon she could feel the first hints of his arousal pressing against her again. Only _she_ could do that to him. She smiled, satisfactorily, and turned in his arms, his leg slipping between hers. Cersei brought her arms up and wrapped them around his neck, the two of them lost in each other, swaying in a sea of neon light and half-dressed men.

Jaime’s hands were on her hips again, sliding across her until they were on her ass, pressing her further against him. Cersei was enjoying the pressure of his leg on her clit, pressing down further when she felt she needed more of him.  Jaime brought his hand to her back, holding her closer, feeling her chest against his and moaning at the thought of taking her. He wanted her terribly. 

Cersei pressed her lips to Jaime's ear. “I told you you look good in leather.” She said slowly, and then nipped his earlobe, raking it through her teeth, her tongue soothing the bite afterward. 

Jaime shivered. He was only growing harder against her, and now they stared into each other’s eyes.  Cersei licked her lips, and Jaime watched intently as her tongue darted across them. He wanted to kiss her, and Cersei wanted the same. Somehow, though, that felt too risky. Here they were essentially dry humping in the middle of a club, but they were still too weary to kiss each other. Neither of them were used to being so blatant in public. It was both thrilling and terrifying at the same time. _What if someone were to recognise them?_

_Tyrion._

The twins had completely forgotten that he was meant to meet them there. 

Jaime saw the panic in Cersei’s eyes as she pulled away from him. 

“Hey!” He shouted, catching her arm. “What’s wrong?” He was flushed from his arousal. 

“Tyrion!” She shouted over the music, pulling him. 

Jaime stayed close to Cersei as they wove their way through the crowd, Jaime trying to hide his arousal yet again. 

They spotted Tyrion at the bar and worked their way over to him. 

“Socket!” Tyrion shouted to them. “I conferred a completely different meaning!” He laughed heartily, downing a shot of what looked like vodka. 

“Drinks on me for a job well done!” He looked at Cersei as he said it and she smiled at him. Though they hadn’t always gotten along, Tyrion empathised with the way their father treated her as less than for being born a certain way. 

Tyrion ordered more vodka shots, to which both Cersei and Jaime protested, but they each took one anyway, downing it together after Tyrion’s countdown. 

“I must say I do love the clientele here.” Tyrion observed. 

Jaime nodded. “Endlessly welcoming.” He shouted over the music as a man walked by, admiring his backside. 

Tyrion threw his head back and laughed. He had a bit more to drink before he decided to search for a club where he might try his chances with a woman.  Jaime and Cersei followed him out into the cold streets and they made their way around, looking for another club. On their journey they passed the sex shops they’d seen earlier.

“Detour, detour!” Tyrion shouted, all but dragging his siblings inside. 

Cersei protested slightly, but curiosity got the better of her as they entered the shop. Jaime watched her to see where her eyes would fall.  She scanned the room; lingerie, harnesses, whips - she smirked at those -, and finally she eyed the vibrators. 

Jaime smiled softly. 

“We should get one.” He whispered in her ear. 

_We._ She smiled.

“Do you still use the one I got you?” He asked. 

It had been a small silicone little thing, baby blue and about four inches long; discreet. 

Jaime had gotten it for her when they’d spent time abroad in different countries. He smiled fondly at the memories of the phone sex they’d had then. He could almost hear that little buzzing sound now.

Cersei had never used it _with_ Jaime, just over the phone sometimes, and not recently, though Jaime knew she still had it - or at least one of the same model because he’d seen it in her nightstand drawer.

She could see his eyebrows raise in his reflection in the glass.  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, wouldn’t you like to know.” She scoffed. 

He laughed and followed her over to an array of fake phalluses. 

“I would, indeed.” He said. “Though, I know none of them could ever compare to me.”

She laughed this time and shook her head at him.  “Funny story, but I actually have one that looks rather like this one.” She said, pointing at a purple one. 

Jaime nearly choked on his own saliva. He hadn’t expected _that_. Why didn’t he know that? 

“Have you used it with Robert?” He asked, his voice dripping with jealousy. He hated to think that of the few times she’d fucked him they’d done something that she and Jaime hadn’t. 

Cersei laughed, “He wishes.” 

Jaime relaxed a bit, but he _needed_ to know more. 

“Did you like it?” He asked, following her around still, like a lost puppy. “How often do you use it?”

She didn’t answer, knowing he would keep spitting questions at her. 

“Is it like me?” He really wanted to ask; _Do you like it better than me?_

Cersei just smiled and sighed, “Jaime, if it were better than you, I wouldn’t rightly have to sneak around to fucking my own brother, would I?” She'd known what he was thinking, as she so often did.

Jaime bowed his head, trying to hide his relieved smile. 

“Well…” He fiddled with a few items in front of him. “I hope there's more to it than just _fucking_ me."

Cersei rolled her eyes. He could be so needy sometimes. She wouldn't dignify that with an answer. He'd already known there had always been more to it. 

“Let’s get one.” Jaime said, bringing the conversation full circle. 

“Jaime, no.” Cersei complained. 

“Cers…” Jaime pulled her against the wall between some capes and leather outfits.

He cupped her cheek in his hand and stroked his thumb gently across her soft skin. 

“I want to make you feel good.” He moved closer, pressing his body against hers. He’d wanted her all night. It was getting to him, especially in his slightly inebriated state. 

Cersei scanned the store, making sure they were hidden. 

“Hey.” He whispered, seeing her worried look. “We’re alone. Nobody in this whole gods forsaken city knows who we are.”

Cersei opened her mouth to protest, but Jaime cut her off, saying the words for her;  “Save Tyrion, but he couldn’t care less about what we do in our free time.”

“I want to do this for you. I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. Better, if that’s possible.”

Cersei blushed and it delighted Jaime. 

“Will you let me?” He asked.

Cersei pushed at Jaime’s chest, freeing herself from his blockade. 

“Jaime, you’re a grown man. I can’t stop you from buying what you want to buy.” She walked away. 

Jaime was confused. She hadn’t exactly seemed mad, but that wasn’t a resounding ‘yes’ by any standard.  He huffed. He suddenly felt left out. Why wouldn’t she let him use those things with her if they made her feel good?  He made a quick loop around the store once, and Cersei saw him at the register, though she wasn’t sure if he’d bought anything. 

Tyrion, though he’d been thrilled at everything he’d seen hadn’t made a purchase, himself. “Too overwhelming.” He asserted. “Must return when sober.” 

When they stepped back out onto the street, Tyrion began googling directions to the next club. 

“I think I’ll call it a night, actually.” Cersei said.

Jaime’s eyes snapped up to look at her, his expression pleading her not to leave him yet. 

“I’m quite tired.” She said, already on her phone calling a car.

“Boo!” Tyrion jeered. “Boring!” 

Cersei rolled her eyes. “I’ve got children to wake up for tomorrow morning. _Responsibilities?_ Have you heard of the word?”

Tyrion shook his head slowly, taking pity on her.  “Well. It’s you and I then, brother.” Tyrion slapped Jaime on the back. 

“Actually, Tyrion, I’m pretty tired too.” Jaime conceded. 

Cersei looked up at him, slightly annoyed. 

“I think I’ll ride back with Cersei, make sure she gets home alright.” 

“Mh. A true gentleman.” Tyrion said, distractedly, already thinking about his next drink. “Well, I suppose I’ll see you both tomorrow then.” He bid them goodbye and was off to poach his next conquest. 

Cersei leaned against the brick wall of the sex shop. She wondered if Jaime had bought anything but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking. 

“Come home with me?” Jaime asked, mimicking her posture up against the wall. 

“We’re in the same hotel, so… yes.” She said, smartly. 

“No. I mean… Come stay with me tonight. In my room.”

Cersei looked at him as though he’d sprouted an arm from his forehead. 

“The kids aren’t around, Robert is drunk off his arse, there’s nobody there to make appearances for.” Jaime said. He knew Cersei knew all this. “And we can continue what we started earlier.” 

He fiddled with the hem of her skirt, drawing it up a bit and then letting it fall back into place. She allowed him to. She wanted him. But when he started to pull at her shirt, she became acutely aware of the bruises Robert had left on her arms. Or were they from Joff? Cersei wasn’t completely sure. She’d had the bruises since Christmas and since then she'd been clothed enough to hide them. She was ok when she thought they’d be fucking in the washroom or when they’d be otherwise rushed, but if she went back with Jaime now he'd undress her completely. He'd see the bruises, and she couldn’t let him. 

She pushed him away as the car pulled up. 

“I’m tired, Jaime.” She sighed, climbing into the back seat. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chap Sunday 1/12


	10. What I have to

“Cersei.” Jaime said as he joined her in the backseat of the car. “We never get time alone.” 

His hand was on her knee and she was fully aware of it there. He leaned in and whispered in her ear. 

“I want you.” 

Cersei tipped her head away from him, as his voice that deep and gravelly in her ear was not going to help her keep her legs closed.  But Jaime took it as an opportunity to press his lips to her neck.  Cersei gasped softly at the feel of him. He was being so, _so_ very gentle, just using soft suction against her skin, enjoying the warmth and the feel of her.  Meanwhile, his hand worked slowly up her thigh.  When he reached the hem of her skirt, Cersei seized him by the wrist and pushed his hand away.  Jaime pulled back, looking sad. 

“Is this about the vibrator?” He asked. 

Cersei could’ve laughed at how stupid that sounded. 

“No, Jaime.” She sighed. “I’m truly just very tired.” 

Jaime looked worried, and Cersei supposed she couldn’t blame him. Being tired had never stopped them before. Exhaustion was nothing compared to the feeling of being together. Being together was worth it, always: even when they were starving or upset - whatever they might feel, being together was a temporary _cure_ for it _._ Or at least it had always been before. There had never been an excuse not to be together. There was nothing better; not sleep, not food, not even bloody _oxygen_ , it seemed, could compare to being whole. Nothing.

“I’ll help you sleep.” Jaime said softly, reaching out to run his hand across hers which was resting on her thigh. 

She pulled it away from him, and he withdrew his. He looked over at Cersei who looked away, out the window. She felt guilty. Poor Jaime couldn’t possibly understand why she was spurning him _again._ And none of it had been his doing. They’d had a good day up until just now. All she could do was make half-hearted excuses. She decided not to answer him. It seemed less painful. 

They pulled up to the hotel and Jaime helped Cersei out of the car. _Always a gentleman_ , she thought.  They caught the elevator and Jaime pressed the button for their floor. As it whirred into action, he turned to her, looking utterly crushed.  Cersei felt her stomach flip at the sight of him. 

“Don’t go home to him, Cersei.” He pleaded, taking her hand. 

She allowed it this time. She wanted to comfort him.  She reached her free hand up and stroked his cheek. “I love you, Jaime.” She breathed. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting her sweet words linger in his ears. 

“Then be with me.” He said, opening his eyes to look upon her again. “We can just sleep. We don’t have to do anything else, Cersei. Just let me hold you.”

Oh _Gods_ he looked just destroyed. She brought her hand up and stroked his hair as the elevator dinged.

They withdrew from each other and stepped out, and the doors closed behind them. 

“Please?” He asked one final time, offering her his hand. 

She looked at it for a moment, every stitch of her being screaming at her to take it. She _had_ to. He was right, they were never alone. They never had any time together. Cersei couldn’t even remember the last time they’d properly spent the night together without interruption. She wanted this as much as he did.

She reached out and took his hand, and Jaime’s entire body relaxed.

* * *

Cersei knocked on Jaime’s door after she’d gone back to her room to change into her pyjamas; a pink silk long-sleeved button-up shirt with matching shorts. She brought her clothes for the next day as well so it wouldn’t seem to Robert as though she’d slept somewhere else if she came back in pyjamas. 

She knocked on Jaime’s door and he answered it quickly, eager to be alone with her _finally_. 

As soon as the door had closed, he’d pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly, burying his face in the crook of her neck. 

“I love you, too.” He told her, responding to what she’d said earlier. “But you know that.” 

It made Cersei feel even more guilty, like he was implying that sometimes he wasn’t sure if she loved him back, though she knew that wasn't his intent. And of course she loved him back. It was all she’d done since the day they were born; before it even. 

Cersei brought her hand up to the back of Jaime’s head, massaging his scalp with her nails, and he moaned softly against her. He was still dressed, and she enjoyed his scent; the leather from his jacket mixed with a bit of his cologne and the lingering bite of alcohol. 

Jaime nuzzled himself further against her, holding her even tighter. She felt his scruff rub across her neck. He’d let it grow out the past few days. Cersei rather enjoyed the feel of it. 

Jaime pressed a kiss to the base of her neck before pulling back. 

“Why don’t you lay down.” He said softly, kissing her once more, on the cheek this time. 

Cersei nodded, padding across the carpet and climbing into the soft hotel bed. The sheets were silk, and felt lovely on her skin, although, they weren’t as nice as the ones she had at home. 

She watched Jaime in the dim light as he slid off his leather jacket and tossed it on a chair. He stripped his shirt off to reveal his chest, all rippling muscle. She’d always had a thing for Jaime’s muscles. She loved the way they felt so strong when he wrapped his arms around her, loved the way they flexed when lifted the children or opened doors or when he was… touching her. _Ugh. No. Stop._ She couldn’t think that way. Not now. Not when he was about to climb into bed with her to _sleep._

But he just looked so good; all that definition, the lines dividing the individual muscles visible even on his forearms. 

He pulled a white t-shirt on and then shed his pants, and Cersei couldn’t help but keep watching him. He faced slightly away from her, but she admired the way he looked nonetheless. He wore a pair of grey boxer briefs, and she loved the way they hugged him so tightly, but they weren’t helping her keep her desires at bay. Not when they left so little to the imagination. 

Jaime stepped into the washroom to brush his teeth, giving her a lovely view of his bum, at which she bit her lip and told herself _no. W_ hen Jaime emerged, he smiled at her all snuggled up in bed. 

“Are you warm enough?” He asked. “There are more blankets.” 

Cersei nodded. “I’m warm.” She was bloody _hot._ It was taking every ounce of self control she had not to touch herself, to give herself just a modicum of relief, watching him there. 

“Ok.” He breathed, smiling softly at her and making his way over to bed.

“Do you need anything?” He asked. 

She shook her head. There _was_ one thing he could give her to help quell the ache between her legs, but that was the one thing she was trying so bloody hard to avoid. 

He climbed in on his side, pulling the blankets over him. “I wish we could do this every night.” He sighed, reaching for her. He’d left the light on, wanting to cuddle a bit before bed. 

She drew a sharp breath at the feel of his hands on her.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

She nodded, holding back a groan. Perhaps this was a mistake. 

He pulled her further against him. “Come here.” 

She melted into him, exalted at the feel ofhis body, so hard and yet so welcoming, as it surrounded her.  He pressed his cheek to the top of her head and grunted, his body relaxing against hers. 

Cersei was far too aware of his hands on her back. One of them was working over her in slow circles. It was all innocent enough on his part but _she_ wasn’t feeling very innocent at the moment, and just having him touching her this way when she couldn’t do anything about it was driving her up a wall. 

Without warning, Jaime dragged his hand down, over her ass. He was on his way to her leg, but she jumped when he’d touched her, bucking her hips involuntarily forward. 

Her face immediately flushed red, but Jaime hadn’t seemed to notice. He took the back of her thigh and drew her leg up and over his, so she was straddling it, both of them still laying on their sides, facing each other.  Jaime leaned down and kissed the top of her head, his hand running up and down her thigh now.  Cersei was sure he’d meant it to be soothing, and she imagined it would’ve been had she not wanted him so terribly, but as it were now, she felt like she might scream in frustration. 

Cersei squirmed a bit, trying to press against his leg for a moment's relief.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Jaime asked. 

Cersei nodded. "Fine." She breathed. 

Jaime's hand still worked over her thigh. She could have told him to stop, but the truth was, she _loved_ the way it felt. 

"I'm glad you're here." He whispered. "And I'm sorry you're tired. I hope you know that I just want to be with you. I don't care what we do. I sleep better when you're here with me."

His hand had pushed her shorts up and was now holding her at the junction of her hip and thigh, his thumb brushing over her gently, caressing her there.  Cersei breathed shakily and nodded, moving her hand to his shoulder. _Oh Gods he felt so good there._

He leaned down again and kissed her cheek this time. Her breath hitched in her throat. She wanted to kiss his lips. 

"Sorry." He whispered, thinking that perhaps she was growing annoyed with him keeping her up. "I'll let you sleep now." He said sweetly. 

The two of them lay there for a few minutes in silence. Jaime had closed his eyes and was genuinely just enjoying holding her so close, feeling her heartbeat and her breath against him. 

Cersei, however, still felt as though she were on _fire_ , and was trying her best to quiet her mind, to stop all the lewd thoughts from running through it, but it was futile. Oh, as long as she kept her arms covered it would be fine, right?

"Jaime?" It was barely a whisper. 

"Mh?" Jaime kept his eyes closed as he answered her. 

"Jaime." She breathed, not a question this time. She had her hands on the back of his head now, pulling his face down to hers. 

He'd barely opened his eyes before she pressed her lips to his, running her tongue over his bottom lip. Jaime closed his eyes again, humming lazily.  And then she slipped her tongue past his lips to slide along his, and he was kissing her back, moaning against her lips.  When she pulled back, she was breathing heavily. She looked up at Jaime whose pupils were blown wide now with desire. 

"Cers-" he began to say, questioning what she wanted, but she interrupted him before he could finish, her lips finding his again, tongues dancing together. 

Cersei's hands were in Jaime's hair, her nails running across his scalp, sending shivers down his spine.  He was so bloody confused, but he didn't much care right now. He liked what she was doing to him and he would follow her lead. 

When she started grinding against his leg Jaime moaned deeply, moving his hand to her ass, slipping it beneath her shorts so he could hold her there. When he squeezed her, she inhaled sharply and then pressed further against him, humping his leg unabashedly. Cersei pulled back to catch her breath, her breathing ragged now, and Jaime took the opportunity to kiss her neck, his hand moving up to her breast, where he traced the outline of her nipple, hard against the silk, making her gasp. 

Jaime smiled against her and began running his thumb over her there in circles, pulling every so often to make her buck against him and moan.  He knew exactly where to touch her and exactly what she wanted. Cersei could've cried she was so grateful for it, but oh, she needed more. 

Jaime's lips moved up toward her ear, kissing and sucking on the delicate skin just under it and forcing another gasp from her. 

“I’m not entirely sure you know the meaning of the word ‘tired’.” Jaime whispered. 

"Shut up." Cersei huffed, laughing breathily and pushing him onto his back. She mounted him and pulled at his shirt, eager to see all of him. He was happy to comply, pulling it over his head and casting it aside. 

"I'm not complaining." He smirked playfully, his eyes glimmering with mischief. "I like your definition far better than mine."

Cersei huffed another laugh before rolling her hips over Jaime's. They both gasped; Cersei at the realisation that Jaime was already fully hard, and Jaime at the friction between them. 

Cersei's hands were on Jaime's chest now as she rolled her hips over his cock. She slid them over him, feeling the the coarse hair on his pectorals, the washboard of his abdominals, and then lower, more coarse hair as she trailed down to the waistband of his underclothes. She rolled her hips again and let out a delighted moan at the way she felt him twitch against her and the small wet spot on his briefs that she'd milked from him. 

Jaime laughed when he saw her looking.  His hand moved from her hip up to her neck and flattened out on her chest. He moved it then down to her breast, cupping it over her shirt, and then doing the same with his other hand, he began to massage her there. 

Cersei moaned lowly and brought her hands up to his, forcing him to work his hands over her harder. 

"Oh." She sighed, her voice breaking. 

Jaime was fully entranced. Had he been asked, he wouldn't even be able to recall his own name. Only _Cersei._

When she let her hands fall away, Jaime began playing with her nipples through the fabric. He pulled on them and rolled his thumbs over them and did everything he could to keep drawing those sweet sounds from his love. She was perfect. 

He pulled the top button open and slipped his hands under the silk, touching her directly now. 

"Jaime." She whined, rocking against him in a way that made him quiver. 

He worked a another button of her shirt, and then another and another, and before Cersei realised that her one job was to keep her shirt _on_ , Jaime was trying to slip it off of her. She panicked slightly and plunged her hand into his boxers to distract him. It proved to be quite effective as he jolted up off the pillows, groaning at the surprise of her hand around him. 

He took the opportunity to suck one of her nipples into his mouth and she groaned in just the same way, working her hand over his shaft and spreading the wetness that had collected at the tip. 

She held the back of his head with her other hand, keeping him pressed to her chest. He moved to her other nipple, raking it through his teeth until she sighed his name. He bucked into her hand, finally feeling a bit of relief after a night's worth of frustration. 

He tried to work her shorts down as he sucked on her but it proved to be too difficult the way they were sitting. She whined softly and he flicked his tongue over the velvety pink skin of her left nipple once more moving up and raking his teeth along her jawline, and then seemingly melting against her lips, kissing her there once more. 

"Getting tired?" He asked in a whisper against her, teasing. 

She laughed and tried to push him back but he held steady, his hands moving under her thighs and the flipping her over. 

She yelped and laughed again as she landed on her back in their little nest of pillows and blankets. 

"You look pretty sleepy." He joked as kneeled over her. She squirmed slightly, her skin flushed.

He pulled her silk shorts down and flung them across the room.

"Sooo sleepy." He joked, running his fingers over her underclothes, biting his lip to stifle a whimper when he saw her wetness seeping through. 

She reached down to touch him as well, but he grabbed her wrists and fell forward, pressing her against the mattress. 

Cersei faked a yawn right in Jaime's face and he grinned at her, chuckling. She smiled back and nipped the tip of his nose playfully. He melted at that, pressing his lips to hers for a lingering kiss before moving them down her body, kissing her neck, her breast, her stomach, her inner thighs, and then finally pulling at her underclothes, sliding them down and off of her, and bending one of her legs at the knee to give himself better access. 

He admired her for a long moment, the way she was looking down at him, her skin flushed and her eyes bright. Her hair was perfectly messy and her lips were plump and rosy from all the kissing. Her shirt was fully open and her nipples were hard, little red nubs begging for more of his attention. her arms were still up over her head, and her breathing was ragged, visible in the rise and fall of her stomach. Her cunt was a sight; pink and shimmering gloriously with her arousal, waiting to welcome him inside, and at the very top of her slit, her clit, the sweetest little pink bud, was swollen for him.

"Oh, fuck, Cersei. _Fuck_." He felt his cock twitch at the sight of her. He needed to taste her _now_. Oh Gods it had been so bloody long since he'd last done this. 

He kissed her clit first, just to tease her, and she let out a breath, bucking her hips in the air.  Jaime pressed a hand on her stomach to still her, smiling up at her.  He flattened his tongue and ran it over her slit, moaning as he finally tasted her again after what had been far too long a time away. 

He kissed her again because he could, because she was so unbelievably soft there that he had to. He couldn't imagine doing any differently. His sister was rough sometimes on the outside, but here, she was the softest thing he'd ever known. And he was the only one who'd get to truly experience it. He kissed her again thinking about it before he went back to using his tongue. 

He drew circles around her clit and sucked on her there and her hands went to his hair, pulling and pushing and grasping as she moaned his name. Her thighs were around his head not long after, his favourite spot for them, and he snaked a hand up to play with a nipple at the same time. She nearly pulled his hair out at the surprise of that, and it made him chuckle against her, which she very much liked as well. 

"Jaime." She huffed breathlessly, one of her hands gripping the wrist of his hand at her chest. 

Jaime smiled against her and found her hand, lacing his fingers through. She held on tightly. 

"Please, Jaime." She begged. "I need..." But she couldn't finish her sentence before he'd slipped a finger inside of her, already knowing. She arched her back, crying out at the feeling. 

Gods, his cock ached. He bucked against the mattress for a bit of friction himself. He felt her getting close and it was exciting him. He slowed his pace on her and she whimpered, pulling his hand.  He began moving his tongue slowly with the pace of his finger, but they both gradually picked up speed until Cersei was rocking her hips, mewling and keening and gripping his free hand so tightly it had gone numb. 

And then with one sweet little "oh!", He felt Cersei's walls begin to contract around him, and he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. He treasured each of those moments; the ones right when she came, so dearly. Her pleasure meant everything to him.

Cersei was trembling. He helped her down slowly, and when she began pulling him up by his hair and his hand, Jaime complied, laying on his side and pulling her with him so he could rub her back, soothe her. 

She closed her eyes, her cheek pressed to his chest as she caught her breath. 

"I'm here." He breathed as he felt her hands on his back. She clung to him. He’d never felt stronger. She _needed_ him. 

"Shh. It's alright." He comforted her, as she came down, his fingertips tracing soft patterns now on her back. 

She found his lips without opening her eyes, kissing him and tasting herself on him. 

"Take this off." He whispered, beginning to pull at her open shirt.

Cersei quickly pulled it back. "I'm cold." She lied. 

Jaime was about to tell her he would get another blanket when he felt her hands in his pants.  One of them gripped his balls, massaging them, while the other worked his shaft.  He moaned deeply.  She watched his face now as his eyes closed and his mouth fell open. 

"I want you." She whispered, her tongue darting into his mouth to play with his. He groaned. 

"I want you inside of me, Jaime." She whispered. "Is that what you want?"

"Yes." He whimpered, his voice caught in his throat. He'd wanted this for so long. 

Cersei released him and pushed him onto his back now, pulling his briefs down off his legs. She watched the way his cock sprung from them, free, finally.  She straddled him, pressing the base of his cock between her folds and rolling her hips over him so that her clit reached the tip of him, his cock flat on his stomach between them. 

"Oh." He moaned, wantonly. 

She rocked back and forth on him that way, teasing herself against him as much as she was teasing him. He did his best to focus, reaching out and massaging her breasts or holding her at her hips. And then, when his breath become ragged, she allowed him to slip inside of her without warning. 

He gasped, his eyes shut tightly. She rode him for a while, each of them lost in the other, until Jaime needed to feel her against him. He sat up from where he lay on the mattress as he'd done earlier, and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her to his chest. His moaning was an indication of his desperation. He rolled to his side, taking her with him and she fucked him as much as he fucked her, their hips moving in unison as they became one. Their mouths melded together, kissing languidly, sighing and moaning and clutching the other tightly. 

Jaime's hand found Cersei's cheek. "I love you." He choked out, rolling on top of her, fingers of both hands twining together as he rocked into her. 

He looked into her eyes. 

"I love you, I love you." Cersei panted, her legs around his waist now, pressing him deeper, further inside of her. 

"Cersei?" He asked desperately almost as if asking for permission and she closed her eyes tightly and nodded, beginning to tremble in his arms. 

They kissed once more as they came, moaning into each other's mouths again and then they collapsed on the bed, each holding the other tight.  Jaime pressed his lips to Cersei's forehead. "I missed you." He said, still breathless. 

Cersei smiled, basking in the aftermath of her orgasm, her brother's warmth against her. 

She nodded lazily. "Me too." She breathed. 

She rolled onto her back and Jaime watched her, propping his head up on one hand and running the other over her stomach and then over her hip. 

"Mmh." She hummed, eyes still blissfully closed, enjoying Jaime's gentle touch. 

He moved closer, resting his head on her pillow and nuzzling her cheek.  He watched her with a soft smile on his face as he ran his fingertips all over her; the soft golden hair just over her cunt, her belly, her breasts, her nipples, still hard. He moved up her neck where he could feel her heart beating, and, finally, he clasped his fingers around her jaw, turning her gently toward him until he could press a kiss to her lips. It was such a soft kiss that it made Cersei whimper and her eyes fluttered open. Jaime leaned his forehead against hers, his index finger running across her lips now. She puckered her lips as he ran it across them, kissing him there and making him smile. 

"You're so pretty, Cersei." He whispered. 

He'd been saying that to her since they were children, which is why he continued to say it now. It reminded her of when they were young, and she liked it for that reason, but she knew he meant it as more than that. He thought she was smarter than anyone he knew, he thought she was stronger than even he. He thought she was beautiful; untouchable, really. She was perfect. And really, he didn't just _think_ this, he _knew_ it. And he'd told her all of those things over and over, but she liked the way he'd packaged all these ideas together when they'd been children. He used the one word he knew most sufficed, trying to somehow articulate all the feelings he hadn't yet learned the vocabulary to express. 'Pretty' to the twins, had, very early on, come to encompass many things that were otherwise indefinable: that feeling of butterflies they got when touching, the light dancing off their golden hair, the rosy red of Cersei's lips and the emerald green of Jaime's eyes, the way it felt to lay in each other's arms, to breathe the other's air, to feel the other's heartbeat and kiss the other's lips. It was a word neither of them took for granted. 

Cersei smiled up at her brother, closing her eyes once again as he kissed her nose. 

"You sure you don't want to take this off?" He asked Cersei, tugging at her shirt. 

She shook her head. "I should shower, though." 

"No." Jaime whined, pulling her against him, and pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

Cersei laughed, pulling his arms off her. "I'll be right back." She said.

She stood and Jaime watched her grab her pyjama shorts and make her way into the washroom. He sighed and leaned back against the pillows, missing the feel of her there with him already. 

Cersei shed her shirt finally when she was alone. 

She looked at the bruises on her arm in the mirror. She'd considered telling Jaime they were from whacking her arm on something, but they were clearly handprints. She told herself they must be from Robert because it was too painful to think that her baby boy had done such a thing, though truly she wasn't sure who it had been. The bruises were deep purple and speckled all up her forearm and bicep. They hurt to press on, but Cersei did it anyway as she inspected them. She tried to understand why Robert did those things to her. Was it the drinking? Was he bitter about their loveless marriage? Something else? Cersei could only guess, but she supposed it didn't really matter. None of it excused his behaviour, his actions.

Cersei looked at herself in the mirror. She tried to feel the fluttering of Jaime's lips on her instead of the ache of Robert's grasp. Jaime pressed sweet kisses all over her body, and yet, the pain from those purple marks that marred her alabaster skin were what she could most feel. She hated Robert for that. How dare he dilute her brother's touch. She found herself tearing up as she looked at herself. How had she gotten here? Marrying Robert had been strategic. It had been her father's will. She'd wanted to please him, and she _had,_ but what had it gotten her? A pat on the back, another million perhaps in inheritance. At the time she hadn't cared who she'd wed. It hadn't mattered to her because it wasn't as if she could love anyone but Jaime. It was a business arrangement through and through, so Robert looked great on paper. He had money, notoriety, business acumen. But she hadn't thought about him as more than that; a business decision. She hadn't thought about living with him, fucking him, sleeping in the same bed, even. And she hadn't expected him to have such a temper. And now Joff... She was disappointed in herself for letting Robert bleed himself into other parts of her life; the most important parts. 

"Cersei, maybe I'll just join yo-" Jaime had been impatient, wanting Cersei back with him and he'd opened the washroom door as she stood there in front of the mirror, having forgotten to lock it.

She jumped at the intrusion, grabbing a towel and scrambling to cover herself, but it was futile. Jaime had seen.  He stood in the doorway, brow furrowed and eyes blinking.  It took him a moment before he stepped toward her, reaching for the towel that covered her arm. 

"Let me see." He said lowly, almost in a growl. 

He pulled at it and she let it fall away, her eyes locked on her feet. She did not want to see Jaime's pained expression, the rage on his face.  She felt his hands hover over her, shaking, afraid to touch her, and that hurt. She didn't want him to think of her as fragile or broken. 

"I'll fucking kill him." Jaime hissed. And then louder, "I'll _fucking_ murder him, Cersei! I'll murder him!" He was yelling now, and he pounded his fist against the door turning and storming out of the washroom. Cersei followed him.

"Jaime." She'd tried to call to him but her throat was dry, and it came out as nothing more than a whimper. 

Jaime was whipping his shirt on over his head, pulling his pants back on. He hardly looked at Cersei, standing there in the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself. He couldn't look at her. How had he let this happen? How had he let that fucking monster hurt her? Why hadn't she told him?

"Jaime." She squeaked. But he didn't answer. He hadn't really heard. His ears were ringing. All he could think about were his hands around Robert's neck. How it would feel to snuff the life out of him. Jaime made for the door, but Cersei intercepted, pulling at Jaime's arm. 

"If you do this you're just the same as he is!" Cersei shouted. 

Jaime whipped around, his eyes boring into her. Cersei had never seen such rage, not even in Robert. 

"And how is that?" He asked, shaking, fists clenched. 

"I need you, Jaime. If you do this, you'll leave me and you'll leave the children and that will hurt more than anything Robert could ever do to me." She reasoned, her face burning red with embarrassment. She felt weak. 

He took her face in his hands. 

"I will not let him hurt you. Do you understand that?" 

"Every decision he makes to spite me is another nail in his coffin." She hissed. "Do _you_ understand _that?"_ She pulled his hands from her face. 

"He thinks he has it all. Money, power, heirs. Jaime he has _nothing._ He's a bitter drunk who lives to serve father, and I allow into my house only to bleed him dry. We need his money to grow our business. Our name." She said it as though it belonged to her. Father hardly let her near it, but all the same she took great pride in it. She wouldn't give up on it. 

"And _we_ needed him to grow _our_ family. His whole identity - what he thinks it is, is a guise, a lie, a lark! Given the right planning, we can do anything we want to him. We've done so much already. Bruises are a small price to pay for our children, Jaime. For them I would bear far worse. For you I would bear far worse."

She held his hand in hers now. 

"I'm not proud of the way he treats me." She looked down at her feet. Gods knew that was true. "But I do what I have to. I've always done what I had to."

Jaime had tears in his eyes now. 

"If you want me... If you want our family, our children, you mustn't do this. It will be the end of us all."

Jaime's lip quivered as his eyes fell to the dark bruises on her arm. _How hadn't he known?_

"How often?" He breathed shakily, not that it mattered. Once was far too much. 

Cersei shook her head, but did not look at him. "Not often" she said softly. 

It was a vague answer to a question that Jaime had been terrified to ask.  He ran his hand over her cheek. 

"I love you." He whimpered, a tear slipping from his eye. If she wouldn't cry for herself, he would cry for her. 

"I know." Cersei said, reaching out to wipe it from his face. 

"I'm going to get rid of him." She promised, so sure of it. She'd been sure of it from she and Robert's first night together.  "But not like this, Jaime. It can't be like this." 

Jaime exhaled sharply. 

"If you really love me, it can't be like this." Cersei whispered.

Jaime wore that look again, the one he'd worn in the elevator; desperation. A man completely destroyed. 

"Come here." She soothed, pulling him into a hug. He pressed his face against her neck, and she stroked his hair, letting him cling to her. 

"Promise me." She said. 

Jaime was silent. 

"Jaime."

"I can't." He huffed, finally, still shaking. 

Cersei sighed as though she were annoyed. "I told you I can protect myself." She said. "Do you think I simply roll over and let him do as he pleases?" She pulled back to look at him, holding him at his shoulder. "I hit him back twice as hard."

Jaime liked the idea of it, but he knew it couldn't be true. While Cersei certainly could be fierce, she'd hit Jaime himself more than a few times. As he'd reasoned to himself before, _she is strong, but mentally more so than physically._ She would be no match for Robert, a man at least twice her size. 

"When will you get rid of him?" He asked. "How?" 

Cersei sighed, closing her eyes tightly. "I don't know yet."

"I'll do it for you tonight. I'll make it look like an accident - alcohol poisoning, a robbery, anything you want, Cersei."

She slapped Jaime, and he looked at her as though she'd torn his heart out. 

"I've already told you." She said cruelly. "No."

"I can't let him, Cersei. I can't." 

Cersei sucked in a deep breath and brought her hands to her forehead, raking her fingers through her golden locks. _Oh Gods_ she hadn't wanted to do this, she truly hadn't and she'd never forgive herself for it, but he left her no choice. _She always did what she had to do._

"It wasn't Robert." Cersei said upon exhale, arms dropping to her sides and then wrapping around herself. "It wasn't - it wasn't him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI! Next chapter should be wednesday 1/15 :)


	11. Lies

Jaime stood there in front of his sister, half dazed. Their baby boy had hurt her. Cersei was trying to explain that it wasn’t Joff’s fault; that he was confused and frustrated, but Jaime cared not. It wasn’t an excuse. 

To be clear, he would not hurt his son. He swore that when the boy was born. He would not hurt Joffrey. But he was going to _scream_ at him until he got through. 

Jaime fell to his knees before his sister. She was running her fingers through his hair when she asked, “Do you understand?”

Jaime pressed himself forward until he was hugging her and nodded against her abdomen. “It’s my fault.” 

“It…” Cersei took a moment to process what her brother had said. “Stand up.” She slapped his shoulders. 

He did as she asked, and she took his face into her hands. “It’s not your fault.” Cersei felt something inside of her quiver. It was _her_ fault for letting him see her weaknesses It was his father’s fault for inflicting them upon her in the first place. Robert was cancer. She hated to think of it. Her sweet baby boy hurting her. True, she was unsure if it had been Joffrey that left the bruises on her arm. She somehow doubted he was strong enough to leave such dark marks, but he _had_ hurt her. He would do worse as he grew older and stronger. 

Cersei blinked back tears, and that broke Jaime.  “Come here.” He pulled her into a tight hug.  “I”m sorry.” He breathed, pressing his face into her hair. “I”m so sorry, Cersei.” He trailed his fingers gingerly across the bruises on her arm.  “I’ll fix it.” He whispered, and she grew tense. 

“How d’you mean?” She asked, wiping the few tears she’d allowed herself to shed from her face. 

“He won’t do it again.” Jaime said, surely. 

Cersei held Jaime’s face in her hands. “You will do nothing.” She spoke slowly. “You will do _nothing._ He is _my_ son _._ He is _my_ responsibility. You will do _nothing._ ”

Jaime’s brow furrowed. “He’s _my_ son too.” He said softly, hurting somewhere deep inside that she hadn’t acknowledged it. 

Cersei pushed her brother away. “You will do _nothing._ ” She repeated it. “Jaime, I will take care of it.” 

“The boy needs to hear it from someone he-“ Jaime stopped himself. 

“From someone he what?” She asked harshly. “Someone he what, Jaime?”

Jaime hung his head. He hadn’t realised what he was saying until he’d said it, but he wouldn’t finish his sentence now. 

“Someone he _respects_?” She demanded. “Someone he’ll listen to?” Cersei pounded on Jaime’s chest, and Jaime stood there, taking the blows readily, believing he deserved whatever she saw fit to dole out. 

“Cersei.” Jaime choked out. It hurt him to see her this way. 

“He’s _my_ son!” She shouted. “He _will_ respect me.”

Jaime reached for her but she slapped his arm away. “I’m not so fragile as you all seem to think - you and father and Robert. I-I don’t understand it.” She forced a breathy laugh, though tears danced in her eyes. “What is it that’s wrong with me? Why is it so hard to see me as a _person?_ ”

“There’s nothing -“ Jaime’s voice was stuck in his throat. Oh, how he hated to see her upset. 

“Is it because I’m a woman?” She asked “Because I’m a mother? It’s been going on since long before Joffrey was born, so can’t be. It must be because I’m a woman then. Because I have a cunt in place of a cock. That’s it, isn’t it? Isn’tit, Jaime?” She shoved him, snapping him out of his daze.

“No.” He huffed. “I don’t… Cersei, I respect you, you know I do.” 

“You think I’m weak!” She yelled and Jaime flinched. “You think I can’t handle a few bruises! You think I can’t discipline my son on my own.” 

“That’s not true, Cersei.” Jaime pleaded with her to believe him. And it wasn’t true. It wasn’t. There was nobody in the world Jaime respected more than his sister. 

“What’s wrong with me then, Jaime?” She screamed, pounding on his chest, again. This was not a hypothetical question. She was tired of feeling gaslit on this. There _had_ to be a reason. “What’s wrong with me?” Her voice broke and tears gathered in her eyes, but she would not let them fall. She blinked them back as her nails scratched his chest. When he still did not flinch, she shoved him. 

“What is it then? Tell me!” She screamed. Jaime gathered her in his arms and she flailed against him, scratching him wherever her nails landed. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Cersei. There’s nothing - There’s nothing wrong, please!” He shouted over her.

He held her tightly to his chest, repeating himself the way she’d been doing and eventually, she gave up. She was too tired to fight him anymore. 

She was shaking now, so Jaime lifted her and carried her to bed. She pushed at his chest but didn’t tell him to put her down. He likely wouldn’t have anyway, and she’d accomplished what she’d set out to do, which was to stop Jaime leaving in a rage. 

He set her in bed and stripped off his clothes so he could join her.  Cersei turned away from him. She wouldn’t let him see the tears in her eyes. She wouldn’t give him another reason to doubt her strength.  But Jaime didn’t and he never had. He pressed against her from behind and held on to her at her waist. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Cersei.” He said again. He hated that she thought that. 

Cersei was utterly exhausted now, but she turned in his arms to face him after a while.  She looked up at Jaime and he broke at the sight of her. But he told her the truth as he saw it, as he’d always seen it - even now. “You’re perfect.”, and he pulled her against his chest, whispering, “I’m sorry.” Before she could pull away, and it helped. She relaxed against him. 

Cersei fell asleep on Jaime’s chest, and he let her. He stayed like that all night and he slept well because he held her in his arms. Tomorrow he would speak with Joffrey. He’d sworn to protect the boy, and he could never hurt him, but oh he _wanted_ to. He wanted to slap him straight across the face and grab his shoulders and scream at him. How could he treat his own _mother_ that way? Especially a mother like Cersei. She’d only ever loved him; only ever given him everything he’d wanted. Then again, perhaps that was the problem. 

* * *

Cersei woke up early - 6 o’ clock, and woke Jaime up with her.  He didn’t mind, especially when she made those sweet sleepy sounds he liked so much. 

“You don’t have to go.” He whispered, his hand trailing across her back. His gaze fell to her arm. It had almost felt like a dream, last night. Jaime wished it had been. 

“The children will be up. I should go help father with them.” She whispered, her voice hoarse. 

He stroked her hair. “Are you alright?”

She nodded. “I’ll take care of it, Jaime.” 

Jaime simply nodded back, because it was no use arguing about it all over again. He would have his time with Joffrey. 

She stood then, and Jaime watched her dress and leave shortly after. 

That day, the family spent on a quick tour around Berlin. They saw Brandenburg, had lunch in the park, toured the Reichstag and visited several memorials.  By the end of the day, everyone was exhausted. They had a quick dinner and decided to retire early for the night. Joffrey, though began to complain. 

“I want to go to the top of the T.V. Tower!” He told his mother, who was carrying a sleeping Tommen as they made their way back to the hotel after dinner. 

“Oh, love, we simply didn’t have time. Next trip, I promise we’ll go.”

“That will be ages from now!” Joffrey whined. 

“Joff, I would take you love, but Tommen and Myrcella are exhausted. As is everyone else.”

“I’ll go by myself!” Joffrey shouted. 

Cersei shook her head, but was about to see if Robert would be cognizant enough to get Tommen and Myrcella into bed on his own, when Jaime stepped in. 

“I’ll take him.” He said. 

“Yeah!” Joffrey shouted, jumping up and down.

Cersei eyed Jaime viciously, ready to sock him in the face. She couldn't rightly say no now. 

* * *

Before Jaime and Joffrey split up from the group, Cersei pulled Jaime aside. 

“You are _not_ to say _anything_ to him about what we spoke on last night.” 

“I won’t.” Jaime assured her, brushing his hand across her back for good measure. Cersei moved away and Jaime sighed. 

But she allowed it in the end. Gods forbid her boy didn’t get what he wanted. 

Jaime and Joffrey purchased tickets and took the lift up. It was less crowded now than it would’ve been at the day’s peak and for that, Jaime was grateful. 

Joffrey ran over to the windows to look out at the city below, and Jaime couldn’t help but wonder how his son’s little golden body could house such innocence and such malevolence all at once. 

He loved Joffrey. Of course he loved the lad. He loved him because Cersei loved him and because he was a part of them. But he wished now he’d been more involved in Joffrey’s upbringing. Perhaps if Joffrey’d had a strong role model to look up to he wouldn’t be so troubled. Robert certainly didn’t respect Cersei. But where had such violence come from in their boy? It would be possible, Jaime supposed, that Joffrey had been acting out in such a state that he did not realise the extent or power of his actions. He was stronger now than he’d been when he was small, and that could take some getting used to, plus, Jaime knew how rage could blur your actions. It could make you do things you’d never even imagine doing. And Joffrey had been rather unruly lately. 

Jaime swallowed hard. Rage certainly could be a frightening beast. 

As Jaime watched his son, the rage within himself seemed to simmer down. He no longer wanted to scream at Joffrey, that wasn’t going to help anything. He just wanted to understand. 

“Pretty amazing.” Jaime said when he’d joined Joffrey by the windows. The city was dark now and the lights from the shops and apartments below twinkled up at them. Jaime wished for a fleeting moment that Cersei could be here with him. She would enjoy it. Perhaps he’d take her back some time, watch the lights twinkling in her eyes instead. He imagined how much more beautiful it would be that way. 

“Berlin is so cool.” Joffrey nodded, satisfied at last to have gotten his way. 

The two stood there in silence for a few minutes, admiring the landscape beneath them. Jaime was trying to work up to what he wanted to say. 

“So. You’re nearly a teenager now, huh?” 

Joffrey looked up at his uncle, slightly confused. “Uh. Yeah, I guess.” 

Jaime nodded. “You’ll be a man soon.” 

Joffrey bit his lip and hoped this wasn’t the _birds and the bees_ talk. He’d already learned all that in school, he didn’t need his uncle going over it with him whist they were trapped atop a tower in Berlin. 

“D’you know what that means?” Jaime asked when Joffrey didn’t answer him. 

“I can do whatever I want.” Joffrey responded matter-of-factly, now liking where the conversation was going. “I won’t have to listen to mother or father or _anyone_.” 

Jaime shook his head. “You’ll still have to listen to them.” He said sternly. “That’s not what it means to be a man.” Jaime chewed his lip for a moment, but it seemed as though Joffrey were interested enough to await a continuation. 

“Being a man comes with certain responsibilities.” 

Joffrey rolled his eyes at that. 

“No, not those responsibilities.” Jaime clarified, because he knew Joffrey thought he meant _boring_ things. “Not like doing your homework or practicing violin, nothing so dreadful.”

Joffrey looked up at Jaime and cocked his head. _Gods, he looks like me._ Jaime thought to himself.

“No I mean… Being a man… You’ll be strong. You’ll be stronger than a lot of people. You’re quite strong already.” Jaime observed, and Joffrey puffed his chest. 

“But because you’re strong,” Jaime continued, “you have a responsibility to use that strength the _right_ way.” 

Jaime felt like he was in that scene in superhero movies when the sage old person tells the young lad to use his powers only for good. Then again, that was essentially where he was drawing his inspiration from. He wasn’t sure how to communicate this another way. 

“Do you understand what I’m saying, Joff?” Jaime asked. 

“Like… don’t steal and stuff…” Joffrey trailed off, turning to look back out at the lights. 

“No.” Jaime shut his eyes tightly. “I mean - yes, you shouldn’t steal, you’re right, but it’s more than that.” _Gods, he was bad at this._

“It’s treating people and animals with respect. _All_ people. _All_ animals.” Jaime saw Joffrey tense up. 

“And it’s protecting people who don’t have as much physical strength as you.” Jaime sighed. “And it’s a whole lot of other things that you can define for yourself, but those two things I’ve just told you are not optional.” 

Joffrey was chewing _his_ lip now, not looking at his uncle. 

“I know about Lily.” Jaime said gravely. 

Joffrey’s head whipped over to look at Jaime, his face red with embarrassment, or possibly rage, Jaime wasn’t sure. 

“Don’t tell father!” He shouted. 

Jaime looked around them, worried someone would think he were bothering the poor boy.

“Shh.” Jaime motioned for Joffrey to lower his voice. “I won’t tell him.” Jaime assured Joff. “That’s not my place. But your mother knows as well.”

“Why would you tell her?” Joffrey complained. 

“She’s the one who told me.” Jaime informed him. “She found Lily.”

Joffrey scowled. 

“And I saw you push her.” He said. 

Joffrey looked away now, and Jaime thought he might be blinking back tears, so he thought he’d start with the easier question, “why the crab?” 

Joff’s lip quivered. 

“I just get mad sometimes.” He said. 

“And you felt the need to take it out on Myrcella’s pet?”

Joffrey shrugged.

“And I suppose you pushed your mother for the same reasons?” 

“I’ve seen-“ 

“I don’t care what you’ve seen.” Jaime interrupted, his voice cold. Had he allowed the boy to finish his sentence, he’d have told Jaime that he’d seen his father do it.

“You never lay your hands on a woman, ever. Your mother especially!”

Joffrey nodded. His uncle could rather intimidate him. 

“Do you know the things she would do for you?” He asked. “Do you know? She would _die_ for you, Joffrey, without a second thought. When you were born, she wouldn’t even let anyone bloody hold you! Not even m- your father. She was always afraid someone would hurt you. You’re her first boy. You’re her everything, and I’m not exaggerating when I tell you that she thinks you and your brother and sister are the most perfect things in the world.” 

Joffrey looked a bit guilty, which was what Jaime was going for. 

“So don’t disappoint her.” He said sternly. “What a shame it would be to treat your mother that way.” 

The boy nodded, confused why his father could hit his mother but he could not. Perhaps his father was bad as well. Joffrey has so many questions but he was both too ashamed and too afraid to ask them, so he nodded and agreed with his uncle, telling him what he wanted to hear. 

“As for the crab…” Jaime said, sighing. “And I suppose as for all of it… Things can be hard sometimes. Life can be hard sometimes. I’m always going to be here. I’m not going anywhere, and neither is your mother. We love you, Joffrey. We just want the best for you. You can tell your mother anything, I hope you know that. But sometimes that can be difficult, so if that ever becomes the case, you can tell me.”

Joffrey was blinking back tears now. He felt ashamed and angry. He didn’t like feeling weak. He didn’t like that uncle Jaime thought he was so righteous, but he wouldn’t fight Jaime. He did respect him.

Jaime and Joffrey stopped for ice cream on the walk back to the hotel. They kept things light after their conversation in the tower, and Jaime was happy with how it had gone. He truly believed that Joffrey would heed his words. Maybe he’d even begin to understand how much his mother loved him and treat her accordingly. Nothing would make Cersei happier, and thus nothing would make Jaime happier. 

When Jaime dropped Joffrey off back at his suite, things seemed to be looking up. Joffrey seemed to be _lighter_. 

Cersei answered the door when they'd knocked, and she looked down, smiling at her son. 

“How was it?” She asked?

“Amazing.” Joffrey said, smiling genuinely. Cersei couldn’t help smiling herself. "I can't wait to hear all about it in the morning." She said. "Right now I need you in bed, love, alright? We've got to be up early."   


Joffrey nodded, which rather surprised Cersei. "Night mum.” Joffrey said almost sweetly as he moved past her to get ready for bed. 

“Goodnight, my love.” She called after him, and then turned to Jaime, her smile completely vanished.

“Don’t ever lie to me again.” She said, slamming the door in his face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chap should be sunday 1.19


	12. Amends

Jaime was sick of it. He was sick of being the bad guy for caring about her. This was his _job_ , his responsibility as a father. An uncle, even, would do the same. He was done with her being upset with him for it - for caring what happened to her. 

He pounded his fist on the door, uncaring of who might be asleep inside. When Cersei did not answer, he pounded louder. He wasn’t going to give her a choice. 

And sure enough, she whipped the door back open. 

“What do you want?” She hissed. 

Jaime pulled her by her forearm out into the hallway and the door closed behind them. He pressed her back against the wall, and the whole time she protested, all the way up until his hands were on her waist and his lips were on hers. 

He kissed her passionately, and he thought for a moment that it might have been a mistake, but then her lips parted and he felt her tongue brush across his, and her hands move to his back. 

“Mh.” Jaime moaned deeply. 

They might have stayed like that all night, but they heard the sound of the elevator dinging behind them and pulled away. 

Jaime’s eyes scanned over his sister. 

She wore a peach coloured silk robe and her little boot-slippers that he loved her in so much. Her lips were red now with all the blood that Jaime had forced to rush into them. Oh, the things he would do to her if only they had the privacy. 

He smiled at her, but she just looked at him, so he reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand when he decided it was safe. He ran his thumb over her delicate chin. 

“I love you.” He whispered. 

She stared up at him with such intensity he could feel it. 

“I know.” She answered him and it made him smile, because he knew she loved him back, too. He let go of her and she gripped his chin then and looked in his eyes. “I know he’s your son.” She said softly, carefully, and Jaime nodded. It was likely as close to an apology as he would get, and he was ok with that. It was more than he’d have asked for, actually. 

“Thank you.” He whispered, and she released his chin, but he caught her hand before she could lower it completely and brought it back up to his lips, kissing her palm and letting her curl her fingers into his beard. 

He was about to kiss her again, on the lips this time. He’d even taken a step closer, but they heard the elevator again, and he backed away, letting her take her hand back. 

She offered him just the very ghost of smile and, with that, she slipped back into her suite, and Jaime went back to his, smiling to himself the whole way there. 

* * *

The next morning they were off to Switzerland. 

Jaime sat next to Cersei on the flight again, holding her hand when he could.  She seemed less afraid this time, and he was glad for it even if it meant she didn’t cling to him as tightly. 

They stayed in Saint Moritz in a hotel at the base of a mountain. The Lannister’s had gone skiing a bit in their youth, and Tywin had always enjoyed it himself. None of his children remembered this, but their mother had been a phenomenal skier. 

The day was set aside for whatever they might want. 

Cersei had the kids in ski school, so she sent them off after breakfast with a trusted international nanny to watch over them should anything happen. 

Tywin had already hit the slopes by that time, and Robert had decided to stay in bed for a while, not much of a skier himself. 

Tyrion, Cersei and Jaime went out to try some easier slopes. It had been ages since any of them had skied, so they started on the bunny hill. Cersei and Tyrion did rather well, but, much to their delight, Jaime did not.  He was a klutz on his skis, crossing one over the other all too often, and tumbling most of the way down the hill instead. 

“Let’s try a blue, shall we?” Tyrion suggested after they’d done a number of greens. 

“Fuck that.” Jaime panted, leaning on his poles. “This sport’s fucked.” 

Cersei laughed. He was _covered_ in snow from falling all over, and though his pride was hurt, it was worth it to have drawn such a lovely sound from her. He couldn’t help smiling. 

“The two of you can go on, I think maybe I’ll retire for a while. Meet you in the hot tub.”

Cersei looked disappointed, much to Jaime’s delight. _She wanted him there._

“Oh, come on, brother!” Tyrion shouted. “Can’t take a little snow? Just try one blue. Just one. Perhaps the extra speed will help you with your turns."

Jaime faltered for a moment. He didn’t want to, but Cersei had nodded, agreeing with Tyrion. He but his lip. He couldn’t say no. 

They rode the lift up together; the three of them, and the whole while Jaime was wondering how on earth he was going to get down alive.  He looked to his left and noticed Cersei was watching him.  She smiled at him reassuringly and squeezed his thigh. He could’ve melted. In fact, he was sure all the leftover snow on him _had_ melted at that.  And he realised then how _happy_ he was to be there with her, and with Tyrion. And suddenly, he cared not that he might be facing his impending doom. He was just _happy_. 

When they’d disembarked, they stood looking over the hill. It seemed far steeper than the others had.

“Come on then!” Tyrion shouted, laughing as he pushed himself over the edge and began the descent with a “Whoop!” That echoed off the pines around them.

Cersei grinned at Jaime. He’d been watching her all day in her snow-white ski suit, a royal purple hat atop her head, her golden mane standing out nicely against it as it flowed over her shoulders, and her ski goggles pushed up and resting on her forehead. 

“Scared?” She asked, almost teasing. 

Jaime shook his head. Not as long as he was looking at her. 

He watched her lower her goggles, and he did the same, shrouding the world around him in blue. Jaime decided it was a good thing his ski suit was black instead of white, because it would make it easier for ski patrol to find him when they got around to peeling him off whatever tree he was about to splatter himself against. 

Cersei puckered her lips quickly in an air kiss of sorts, and Jaime lost his breath as she shoved off, snow billowing behind her. 

He caught his breath and followed along after her, trying to keep her in his line of sight, so he wouldn’t think about how steep the hill was. But Cersei was fast, and Jaime lost her almost immediately. And then he fell. And he got up, but he fell again, and again. He must’ve fallen halfway down the mountain before he caught sight of her again. 

She’d waited for him on the next ledge. 

“Ok?” She called up to him as he began to side step down to her. 

He held up a thumb, almost losing his balance in the process.  Cersei laughed, but she kept it to herself. 

“How in the _fuck_ are you so bloody good?” He asked, her. 

She shrugged, enjoying the compliment. 

Jaime grinned. She did always love a good ego stroking. As lovely as it was to watch her basking in his praise, he wanted off the mountain as quickly as possible. And suddenly, he had an idea on how to do it.

“Tell you what.” He said. “Let’s make a bet.”

She rolled her eyes. “Why must you make everything a competition?” 

“Oh, please.” He scoffed. “Like _you_ don’t.” 

When she didn’t answer, he took that as his go ahead. 

“You make it down first, I’ll cook you dinner sometime. I make it down first…” He grinned. “You come join me in the hot tub tonight.” 

Cersei smirked, shaking her head. “Listen, having to eat _your_ cooking is not a win for me.” She informed him. “But if you throw in some good wine then…” She stuck her hand out. “It’s a bet.”

Jaime nodded, and they shook on it.  “Count us down.” He said, giving her the honours. 

“Three, two,” She glanced over at her brother, hoping he wasn’t about to kill himself. “One.” And they were off. 

Cersei wove back and forth, trying her best to turn as efficiently as possible.  Jaime, meanwhile, had a different strategy. He simply didn’t turn. He stared straight down the hill at the lodge. At least this way he wouldn’t fall. 

“Jaime!” She shouted as he zoomed past her. 

About halfway down he realised how stupid his plan was as he had no idea how he was going to stop safely. 

“Fuck.” He mumbled as he kept picking up speed. 

Finally, he decided his best option was to simply lean back as far as he could and fall into the snow. As he did it, he lost control and felt one of his skis fall off as he tumbled to the base of the mountain and finally skidded to a stop on his back. 

He sat up a moment later, poking his head up from a snowdrift that he’d created from his own momentum.  Cersei skied over, stopping short and spraying snow all over his head. 

“Are you mad?” She shouted. “You could’ve killed yourself!”

Jaime simply smiled. Grinned, actually. “But I won.” He said. And then he laughed at the expression on her face, a mixture of worry, fear, and defiance. Jaime thought she might argue it, but she didn’t. She simply shook her head and mumbled, “You’ll _need_ a hot tub after that.” And she skied off to find Tyrion. 

After lunch, Cersei went to pick up the children from their lessons, and Jaime accompanied her because as she’d said, “Maybe Tommen will be able to teach you something.”

It turned out that Joffrey had made a friend who he went off to ski with after Cersei made them promise to stay on greens. 

“Mumma ski with me!” Tommen shrieked, his hands, mittens clad, stuck straight up in the air. 

The four of them; Tommen, Myrcella, Jaime and Cersei made their way to the bunny hill where Tommen and Myrcella showcased their newly acquired skills.  Tommen ended up falling over a few times and Jaime envied how painless he made falling look. His back was already becoming sore. 

“Uncle Jaime, can you hold my hands?” Myrcella asked, afraid of falling. 

“No, lovey, let me.” Cersei interjected. 

Jaime pretended to look offended but just laughed in the end. “I think _I_ need to hold your mummy’s hands as well.” He winked at Myrcella who giggled.

Cersei offered her daughter her hands, and Myrcella took them and let her mother guideher down a small slope. Cersei had to ski backward to do it, and Jaime had no idea how she was pulling it off when he couldn’t even ski facing forward. 

When Cersei and Myrcella made their way back up the slope Myrcella clapped her hands. “Uncle Jaime’s turn!” She shouted. 

Cersei immediately shook her head. “I’m not a miracle worker, darling.” She said to Myrcella who simply took her uncles hand, bringing to to Cersei’s. “Mummy he has to learn!”

“Go mumma!” Tommen yelled, just to muscle himself into the conversation. 

Jaime flashed his teeth at Cersei. “I’ll really try my best.” He said, taking her other hand. Their skis crossed over each other and Jaime almost fell right there. 

Cersei steadied him and sighed. “If you make me fall...” she hadn’t even finished her threat before Jaime had started sliding toward her, his skis between hers. She was leaning against the hill, her skis splayed to break backward. 

“Stop leaning toward me.” She growled, 

“I’m not.” He said back, his voice faltering. Gods, he really was atrocious at this. 

He leaned into her hands, shaking.

“Jaime!” She warned. He was making her feel unsteady. 

He bit his lip, concentrating as the children cheered for them. It was all rather adorable and Jaime wished he could’ve enjoyed it, but Cersei was yelling at him to stop, and his body was not cooperating. 

“Jaime! Stop!” She shouted it once more before he leaned too far against her and popped out of his skis, sending her tumbling backward as he fell atop her and they slid to a halt, one ski remaining between the two of them. 

Jaime’s chest was against Cersei’s and he lifted his head so that their lips hovered just over each other. Even in that moment, when he was sure Cersei wanted to castrate him, he couldn’t help the way he ached to kiss her. And he wanted to kiss her right _there_ in the snow as it glistened all around her and flecked her eyelashes and littered her hair with little white and translucent crystals. Her breath was warm and her lips and rosy cheeks were a stark contrast to the pale white around her. 

Jaime imagined her laying in a bed of diamonds, bare and longing for him and oh! He would give her all the diamonds in the world and it still wouldn’t even be a fraction of what he wanted her to have. 

The cold air around them did nothing to stifle his desire for her, did nothing to cool him down.  It had been some time since they’d played rough, wrestled each other until they could bare the tension no longer. Jaime wanted that again. Now.  And Cersei, herself, took a moment. She thought about it, Jaime could tell that  she did because he could see her eyes darting down to his lips the way she did when she wanted to taste him. Jaime would have done it, too, but the children were watching, after all. In fact, they’d scooted down the hill on their bottoms to make sure their mother and uncle were aright, and when Cersei heard them, she shoved Jaime’s chest, not needed a repeat of the cookie debacle.

“Get off.” She scolded him, though it wasn’t what she’d truly wanted. 

Jaime climbed off her and offered her his hand. She took it and he pulled her up and brushed the snow from her.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “Really, Cersei.”

He expected her to ignore him or otherwise shut him out, punish him, but when he met her eyes, they weren’t upset. They were... was that... she looked _playful._ And she bit back a smile as she shook her head. “Now you owe me dinner, anyway.” She said. 

“Done.” Jaime confirmed, trying to contain his glee. Both options had been wins, anyhow.

The two of them took the children back to the lodge then and they played pinball while they waited for the rest of the family to return so that they could go to dinner. 

Jaime bought Cersei a glass of wine from the bar, the most expensive cab they had, to start his apology tour.  He slid his hand over her back as he set it down in front of her and watched her bring it to her lips, rose meeting crimson.  She sipped on it and then set it back on the table, glancing over at Tommen and Myrcella who were studying the trail maps now. 

“Good?” He asked her. He hoped that anything this close to Italy would be at least halfway decent. Especially when they were charging what they were for it. 

She shrugged and he reached over and took a swig for himself. 

“That’s bloody brilliant!” He exclaimed, incredulous. 

She swung her head over to look at him, propping her elbow up on the bar and resting her cheek in her palm. “You’ll have to do better.” She said, half a smirk on her face. 

Jaime wished he could kiss it straight from her. He _would_ do better. 

* * *

At dinner, Tyrion and Robert heard Jaime teasing Cersei about the hot tubs and decided to join the two of them. Jaime was slightly disappointed, which Cersei found quite amusing. 

And so, after dinner, the children stayed in with Tywin while the four other adults went to the hot tubs. 

The night was clear and brisk, the stars visible in the sky above them, even though the deck of the lodge was lit generously by heat lamps. The deck was home to several tubs, some occupied by certain parties. The Lannister crew claimed their own, over by the railing of the deck. 

Cersei watched then as Jaime and Robert both stripped off their clothes. Her brother was so perfect with those muscles she’d been admiring just the other night, and Robert was almost the complete opposite. Where Jaime was strong, Robert was soft. Where Jaime was chiseled, Robert was curved. Even the hair on them; Jaime’s decorated just his chest and lower abdomen, while Robert’s covered him almost entirely. It made Cersei’s skin crawl. The two men had climbed into the hot tub, each of them facing Cersei now as Tyrion had gone to get drinks.  They looked up at Cersei expectantly, waiting for her to join them. 

Cersei found it only half amusing. The hunger, the gleam in their eyes; she knew it well, but their desires were different. Robert wanted a fuck. He wanted to _take_ her, to possess her, to show her off, sport her on his arm. He wanted to fuck her because he wanted a fuck. Jaime, on the other hand, wished to _have_ her, to cherish her, to enchant her, to please her. He wanted to love her in every way she’d let him, and he wanted to fuck her as well - but only ever her, and it was always more than _fucking,_ no matter how hurried they might be. 

Cersei smirked to herself as she untied her robe, putting on a bit of a show for Jaime. He liked to covet her, and she liked to be coveted. 

She slipped her robe off slowly and let it trail down her arms, falling slowly over her hips.  Beneath the warm hotel robe, she wore a white strapless bikini, a single golden loop just between her breasts, connecting either side, and one on each hip connecting the bottoms. 

Cersei watched as the men’s eyes darkened. Jaime smiled slightly, and Cersei liked that. She wondered what he was thinking about doing to her. 

Their eyes followed her as she climbed the few steps up to the edge, at which point, Jaime’s eyes scanned over her; face, neck, breasts, tummy, hips, legs, feet- he wanted _all_ of her.

Robert’s eyes were trained on her breasts. He was smiling smugly now because she belonged to him. Or so he thought. 

Robert put his arms up on the side of the tub, waiting for Cersei to make her way over to him so he could drape one over or across her and play with whatever part of her he pleased, just to show her and everyone else that she was his. 

Jaime might do the same thing, she thought. Or he might wish to, anyway. He wanted people to know she was his. But he wasn’t showing _her_ , not like Robert. She already knew she belonged to Jaime. She’d decided that herself. And Jaime didn’t want to _own_ her. Not like Robert. He simply wanted to show everyone else. And when Jaime touched her, it was for her, too. He wanted to tease her, give her a preview of how good he would make her feel later. Cersei bit her lip thinking about it. As she let herself descend into the water, she thought about him running his hand up her thigh to play with her swimsuit, to pull at the little loops on her hips or brush his fingertips across the waistline. Maybe he’d touch her through it, even. And then he’d kiss her neck, smoothing her hair off her shoulder to move down to her chest, between her breasts. She shivered, gooseflesh covering her even as she let the warm water surround her. She _wanted_ that. With Jaime, it seemed, her pleasure was his pleasure, and vice versa. Robert, conversely, cared only for himself and his own desires. 

Oh, the way Jaime was looking at her with such lust and longing made her weak in the knees.  She wished more than anything to sit next to him, but she took her place next to Robert instead and Jaime was forced to watch the hairy beast drape his arm across her naked shoulders and press his nose to her hair, inhaling her scent and grunting. 

Jaime was grateful when, just a moment later, Tyrion came back with their drinks. Jaime was glad to have something to hold, to busy his hands with, since he couldn’t hold his sister. 

“What a lovely place.” Tyrion sighed, leaning back on the lip of the tub, his arms extended behind him as he looked up at the beautiful snow capped mountains that surrounded them, and the stars that twinkled overhead. 

Jaime watched as Robert’s fat fingers ran over Cersei’s shoulder. The man had already gulped down half his beer already. 

“Heard you got kind of scuffed up skiing today, Kingslayer." Robert teased. 

Jaime nearly rolled his eyes, but he chose to shrug instead. “Not my forte, perhaps.” He said, calmly. “Didn’t see you out there, though, Rob. Didn’t even want to give it a whirl?” 

Robert finished the rest of his drink, his hand disappearing into the water behind Cersei and touching her somewhere rather personal, or so Jaime judged by the way his sister jumped. 

It boiled Jaime’s blood hotter than the water. 

“I know my limits.” Robert laughed. “That’s how I sealed the Mullsbern deal, if you recall. Might do you well to learn yours.” 

He moved his arm again and Cersei jumped and moved away from him. 

Tyrion watched on, his mouth ajar. 

“Mh.” Jaime nodded, his lips in a tight line. If there ever were a man that _didn’t_ know his limits, it was Robert. He’d be drunk by the end of the hour, Jaime was sure. 

And actually, it was sooner. Robert had done a few shots and gone to get another beer and by the time he returned, he was a bloody mess. He nearly fell getting back into the hot tub, and he drank, still. 

“Robert.” Cersei warned, turning to him, but he ignored her. “Kingslayer!” He shouted, his arm round Cersei again, wrapped around her neck, and his hand flat on her chest, just over her left breast. His fingers threatened to dip under the fabric of her swimsuit. Jaime sat ready to pounce. Cersei acted as though it didn’t bother her. Robert could be especially volatile in a drunken state, and Cersei didn’t want to chance Jaime seeing him doing something untoward while she’d just managed to convince him that Robert was no threat to her. 

Robert waited for Jaime to acknowledge him, acknowledge the disrespectful nickname. When Jaime did look up, Robert chuckled and took a sip of his drink. 

“Tell us, how’s your love life?”

Tyrion sucked his teeth. “Gods help us.” He mumbled.

Jaime clenched his fist. Robert liked to show off. He liked people to think he had it all; money, mansions, cars and planes, perfect children, a gorgeous wife. And he liked to remind other people that they didn’t have what he had. It was funny because those were also the things he liked to publicly take for granted. He was always joking about being tied down, how he resented married life, the responsibilities that came with being a father (not that he ever took them on anyhow).

“Robert.” Cersei pushed at his chest. Jaime thought he’d touched her again, but his hands were still visible. Cersei just didn’t want any trouble, and she knew both men enough to know that’s exactly where the conversation was heading. 

“Mine is rather robust, Rob, thanks for asking.” Tyrion decided to volunteer in an effort to thwart the impending pissing competition. 

Robert ignored Tyrion and stared straight at Jaime. Tyrion wasn't a threat to him, but Jaime, his equal partner and Tywin's favourite, was.

“I don’t particularly like talking about my um... _love life,_ as you put it.”

“Oh, now, now, no hard feelings.” He said, his grin covering half his face now at the fact thathe had a woman of Cersei’s caliber while Jaime Lannister had nobody at all. Another way he was superior. 

“It’s a sensitive subject for some.” He chaffed. 

“Jaime has someone.” Jaime and Tyrion’s heads whipped over to Cersei who’d spoken for the first time since they’d been there. 

Robert lolled his drunken head over to look at her. 

“Does he?” And he looked back at Jaime, who was shell shocked such that his mouth hung ajar as Tyrion’s had earlier. 

“Yes.” Cersei answered for him, and Tyrion shook his head in delighted amusement. He could hardly contain his laughter. Cersei had had enough of her husband’s antics, his subtle digs. She hated that Robert thought he was better than Jaime. 

“She’s smarter than anyone I’ve ever met.” Cersei said, sitting up taller. “And beautiful. She’s very beautiful.”

Tyrion snorted and reached over for Jaime’s drink as he’d finished his own. Jaime was too distracted to notice. 

“Tell him, Jaime.” Cersei implored. 

Jaime cleared his throat, hardly able to process what was happening. “Uh.” He swallowed hard. “Yes.” He said. “She’s .. she’s really something.”

Robert raised his brows, his eyes squinting in his drunken state, while Cersei watched Jaime carefully, trapping him in the same game he'd fooled her with the other night. 

Touché, Jaime thought to himself, before speaking up.  “I really... I miss her. Every time I’m away. Even when I’m not away.”

“Is that all?” Cersei asked, looking at Jaime expectantly. 

Jaime huffed a laugh and Tyrion grimaced. “Alright.” He groaned. “That’s enough for me for the night.” He climbed out of the hot tub and wrapping himself in his robe before making his way back inside, flashing them the back of his hand to bid them goodbye and silently wishing his siblings luck with whatever it was they were trying to accomplish there. 

“Well?” Cersei asked, after Tyrion had gone. 

Jaime chuckled to himself. 

“Yeah uh… She’s fucking stubborn and hot headed and doesn’t ever listen to reason.”

Cersei rolled her eyes and Robert just looked a bit confused. 

“And she never bloody remembers to call me when she tells me she will and she has me running around all over creation for one thing or another on any given day because she knows I’ll do anything for her. And she...” he paused for a moment, really taking his time with this one, “She doesn’t ever admit when she’s wrong or even concede that she might need even one bloody _iota_ of help once in a while.” Cersei set her jaw, but Jaime continued, smiling slightly. 

“And she just gets under my skin like nobody else but I want her there. It’s been like that since we were - and I don’t ever want it to stop. I just...” Jaime took a deep breath to calm himself and finished his drink. “She’s just my favourite part of anything and I just want to be with her all the time. So yeah.” He said, shrugging, as if it were nothing, but allowing his eyes to flick over and meet Cersei's seeking her approval.

Cersei sat back, satisfied with how Jaime’d redeemed himself. 

Robert took a moment, staring Jaime down and fleetingly, Jaime worried that he’d misjudged Robert’s sobriety, but he thought he’d been vague enough. His doubts were dispelled when Robert laughed.

“Uh oh!” Robert exclaimed. “Better watch out, Lannister or you’ll end up like me with this one on one arm,” he grabbed Cersei’s shoulder, and Jaime thought she might scratch his eyes out, “and a couple a’ kids on the other.”

Jaime smiled and held up his drink. “Should I be so lucky.” He said, and Cersei’s expression softened. 

“Ah, well...” Robert said, annoyed that Jaime hadn’t laughed along with him. “Speaking of women, I better get this one off to bed.” 

Cersei’s felt such hatred for her husband in that moment that she could’ve killed him right there; smashed his pint glass and drove it into his chest. Oh, she wanted to. She hated nothing more than when he referred to her that way; talking _around_ her as if she weren’t even there. Speaking about her as though she needed him to care for her like she were a child. 

“I’ll stay here a while.” She said evenly, resisting the near-overwhelming urge to choke him. 

Robert looked at her as though he were trying to communicate something. She knew exactly what it was, too, and so did Jaime. Robert was not subtle. He wanted to fuck her. And she would not have it. 

“Do be careful getting back.” She said cooly, and Jaime almost felt embarrassed for Robert as he bumbled about, trying to get Cersei to understand his _very_ obvious intentions, as she ignored them still. Finally, when he was fed up enough, he palmed her breast and pulled at her arm, but she pushed him away and Jaime shot up, catching Robert’s arm. 

“She doesn’t want to leave.” He growled in the man’s ear. 

Robert spun around and Cersei stood up, expecting things to escalate, but Robert just threw his head back and laughed. 

“Bloody women.” He said to Jaime, as though trying to pin his embarrassment on Cersei. Jaime was expressionless. 

He helped Robert out of the hot tub, and the two of them watched hatefully as he clambered about, trying to get his robe and sandals on before stumbling back inside. 

Jaime turned to Cersei when Robert had made it inside. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, running his hand carefully up her arm where her bruises were fading. He was troubled by the way Robert had been so rough just then with her. 

She nodded and Jaime cocked his head, but decided against pushing it any further. 

He moved closer to her instead and just let his eyes sweep over her, pausing at her throat, her collarbones. He was particularly enjoying the way the little drops of water had beaded on her skin there, making her shimmer as the snow had done earlier. Or maybe it was just Cersei. 

Jaime leaned toward her, sighing deeply at the expanse of her skin on display before him. It wasn’t often he saw her so bare in public.  His hand inched upward, just as she’d wanted it to, and then it was on her hip, his index finger looping through the ring on her bikini. “This is nice.” He said lowly, still fixated on her body. 

Cersei smiled, glad he’d moved on from Robert. 

“You look so nice.” He mumbled softly, distractedly as his finger pulled at the golden hoop. 

Cersei scanned the deck, making sure they were alone before allowing him continue. 

He leaned close so his lips were nearly against her ear.  “He doesn’t deserve you. And he doesn’t deserve our children.” His hand had returned to her thigh, gripping her securely. 

Cersei nodded. “I know.” She whispered, placing her hand over his and then running it up his forearm. He was tense. 

“How’s your back?” She asked. 

Jaime hadn’t much thought about it, honestly. He’d had so much else on his mind and so much else to... look at. But as she mentioned it, he realised that it was rather sore. 

He rolled his shoulders back. “It’s fine.” He said. 

She raised her eyebrows. 

“You’re just trying to knock my strategy.” He joked and she rolled her eyes. “It got you here, didn’t it?” He asked, sinking to his knees and moving in front of her, running both hands up her thighs.  Cersei parted them so he could move closer and she played with the damp hair at the back of his head. 

“Perhaps next time you might just ask me rather than wagering your life.” She suggested. It made him smirk. 

“Jaime about the other night...” She sighed, changing the subject. “I wasn’t wrong... I -“ she stammered. It was not how she wanted to say this. “Thank you for speaking to your son.” She sputtered, finally, unable to look at him as she did it. She was too prideful for anything else, but Jaime was impressed with this. This was enough. It surely was. 

He took her hand from the back of his head and brought it to his lips. 

When he let it go, he moved his hands under her calves and pulled, making her squeak as she slipped further into the water with him. He held her face now, and they felt safe there, the lip of the tub obscuring both of their identities as only the very tops of their heads could be seen from the outside.  He ran his hand down the curve of her back as his other hand worked in little circles over her hip. Her eyelids lowered as she relaxed.  He moved closer, his cheek brushing hers, and he pulled her up onto him so that she was straddling one of his thighs.  She spread her hands out on his chest and then slid them upward, watching her own movements on him. She trailed her nails over his shoulders and down his back as she softened against his chest, resting her cheek on his shoulder, and he wrapped both his arms around her then, holding her close and letting the water jets rock them gently. 

Sometimes Cersei found she could better communicate her affections and apologies physically rather than verbally, and Jaime understood that. 

He leaned his head to the side so that he could kiss the cheek that wasn’t against him, and she nuzzled her face against his neck. 

“It’s ok.” He whispered, knowing that she was truly sorry. 

And then he traced her spine with his fingers and she wished they were in bed, snuggled up somewhere more private.  Jaime held her there for a long time, each of them feeling such comfort in those moments that they could’ve drifted off to sleep in the other’s arms.  Jaime was first to speak. 

“We’ll be raisins soon, I think.” He whispered. Stroking her hair. 

Cersei had closed her eyes and almost didn’t register what he was saying, she just took pleasure in the familiar vibrations his voice made in his neck as she was still nuzzled snugly against him there.  When she understood what he was saying, she lifted her head and he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Do you want to come back to my room for a little while?” He asked softly, sorry to have disturbed her. 

She nodded, and he held her chin, pulling her closer again and kissing her gently, his hand stroking her back once more before moving away from her, only to offer her his hand. 

She took it gratefully, feeing lightheaded, and he helped her out of the tub and into her robe, resisting the urge to hold her hand as they made their way inside. 

When they’d locked themselves into Jaime’s room, he went into the en suite kitchen and pulled out a bottle of wine, pouring them each a glass as Cersei sat on the sofa, waiting for him.  He joined her, handing her a glass. 

“Tell me that isn’t the best wine you’ve ever had.” He said, smiling softly as he watched her bring the rim of the glass to her lips and sip on it. He’d ordered it when they were at the hotel restaurant for dinner.

He knelt before her, hands on her knees as she took another sip, swirling the crimson liquid around in her glass as she mulled it over. 

“Mh.” She hummed, as he looked up at her expectantly. 

“You can do better.” She said, finally and Jaime laughed, hanging his head and nodding. 

She pulled at his robe then, setting her glass down on the end table and Jaime rose, bracing himself on the sofa, leaning over her. She pulled him down to his lips and he moaned at the feel of them, like velvet, against his.  Cersei pulled him further down, and he fell next to her on the couch, reaching for her face, wanting to taste her again, but she caught his hands in hers and used them to sturdy herself, pushing herself up off the couch and standing over him. 

He watched her then, his heart hammering in his chest as she slid off her robe. He reached out for her again, grasping her at her hip, pulling her toward him, and she let him, climbing back onto the couch and straddling his lap, her hands on his shoulders as she tilted her head to kiss him languidly. 

Jaime’s hands moved down her back, his fingers slipping under the bottoms of her swimsuit and then moving lower, grasping her firmly and forcing a gasp from her lips. He quickly moved one hand to the back of her head, pressing her mouth back against his as they kissed, and his tongue slid into her mouth and along hers. Then his hands were on her hips, moving upward until they cupped her breasts through her swimsuit, massaging them until she moaned. 

But she had a plan, and this was not part of it - not yet. This was for him. 

She took his hands and laced her fingers through his, parting their lips and pressing his hands back as she moved downward to kiss his neck, sucking on all his sensitive spots and making him sigh. 

She rolled her hips then, feeing him stir beneath her, and then moving lower, kissing the base of his neck and then his pectorals, rolling her hips again and again until he moaned. And then she pushed herself back and fell to her knees before him, releasing his hands and pulling on his swimsuit until he snapped out of his daze and lifted his hips enough to allow her to pull them off of him. 

Jaime’s eyes were fixed on Cersei now, and he seemed to be completely unaware of how bare he was. It was usually like that with her, but to see her kneeling before him was rare, and it sparked a novel sort of arousal in him, causing his cock to swell quickly. The way she was looking at him, at his manhood, like she _hungered_ for it was enough to make him groan, and he did when she wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft. 

Cersei’s tongue darted out from between her lips and Jaime bit his lip. 

“I only like it when _you_ touch me.” She whispered, looking up at him, moving her hand up to the head of his cock. 

“Oh.” Jaime moaned. He loved it when she said things like that. 

“You’re the only one that knows how.”  She rolled her thumb over the head of his cock.  “And I only ever want _you_ inside of me, Jaime.” 

He whimpered at the sound of his name on her lips. 

She began to stroke his cock. 

“Cersei.”  He reached out for her, but she intercepted his hand, grabbing it with hers. 

“But I want you to let me touch _you_ right now.” She whispered, taking his hand and sucking on the tip of his index finger. 

Jaime’s mouth hung open as he watched her. 

“Cersei.” He said again, shakily. 

She leaned in and kissed his abdomen, before tilting her head up to look at him.  He smoothed her hair back. 

“I - Cersei...” he wanted to tell her he loved her. This was more than an apology and very nearly more than Jaime could handle. What was most erotic to him was that she _wanted_ to do this. Cersei never did anything she didn’t want to, and so he knew that she wanted this. She wanted to do this to him. It was enough to make him tremble in anticipation. 

“Shh.” She whispered, continuing to kiss and suck on his skin as she moved lower and lower, insides of his thighs and then back up until her lips hovered just over his cock. 

“Mm.” He grunted at the sight. 

His hands were back in her hair, smoothing through her golden locks. 

“Cersei I-“ he was about to attempt saying it again, and she knew, so she took him in her mouth. 

“Oh!” He moaned, tossing his head back. 

She suckled on him, her tongue flat, almost rolling over him and he moaned again, a low rumbling that made her dizzy.  She continued working her mouth over him, the taste of him making her moan, herself, which only aroused Jaime further. 

“Cersei, please, oh... Gods. Oh, Cersei...” 

She knew exactly what he liked, what he wanted, but he also wanted _her._

“Cersei.” He whimpered, trying to coax her up back into his lap. He was so close he was throbbing. 

She smoothed her hands over his thighs and if trying to soothe him, but continued her pace on him, moaning now and again when she felt him twitch or when she caught sight of the lust in his eyes, or when she thought about how he’d feel inside of her. But there would be time for that later. Right now, she wanted him to come in her mouth. She wanted to swallow his seed, and he wanted that too, but Jaime wasn’t accustomed to this idea of being so alone. He didn’t understand that they could take their time, and if she wanted him, he wanted to give himself to her. 

“Cersei.” He sputtered, and, half annoyed and half amused, she pulled her mouth off him, sucking hard as she did it and making him shake. 

She looked up at him then, gripping his shaft tightly.  “We have time, Jaime.” She said softly, her free hand running up and down his thigh. 

It took him a moment before he understood, and he took her beautiful face in his hands his thumbs stroking over her cheeks. 

“I want you to come in my mouth, Jaime.” She breathed. 

He shut his eyes tightly at that, his cock twitching, leaking for her. 

“Will you?” She asked, releasing his shaft and running her index finger over the swollen head of it, teasing him. 

He nodded, his expression almost pained. 

“I want to taste you.” She whispered, her tongue moving up the length of him and then teasing the tip, as she’d done with her finger. She could already taste him, and she loved it. She loved the way he was aching for her. 

She kissed him there gingerly before taking him back in her mouth and sucking hard.  Jaime saw stars, his entire body jerking forward, toward her. He cried out once more before he lost himself in her mouth. She swallowed his seed, reveling in the fact that it was him, her brother, her lover, her Jaime. 

She stayed there for a moment, letting Jaime catch his breath before pulling back. 

“Come here.” He said gruffly, as soon as she’d released him. 

He pulled her up and into his arms, and she lay there against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as it slowed from his climax.  Jaime pressed his nose into Cersei’s hair. 

“You’re going to stay a little?” He asked. His voice was so hopeful it made Cersei sad. She nodded and Jaime held her tighter then, burying his face in her hair now. 

After a while, Cersei began to shiver, even against her brother’s warmth.  Jaime ran his hands over her. “Do you want to shower with me?” He asked gently. She nodded, her check still pressed against him.

It took them another few moments to work up the courage to leave each other’s arms, but eventually they did and made their way into the bathroom where Jaime turned on the shower and checked to make sure it was warm enough before turning back to Cersei, smiling.

“I've wanted to take these off you all night.” He drawled, his hands smoothing over her hips, thumbs hooking into the golden loops of her bikini. 

Cersei smiled at him as he pulled them down, and then slid his hands up her bare abdomen to her breasts, pulling at the fabric there until he could work up. He watched her breasts spill out, humming happily as they did. She raised her arms and allowed him to pull the suit over her head and discard it on the ground before leaning down and kissing along her collarbone, one hand on the small of her back and the other covering a breast, thumb stroking over the nipple, hard from the cold. 

“Jaime.” She whispered, leaning into him. 

He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her cheek before stepping back and pulling a couple of towels out for them. 

Cersei had stepped into the shower by that point, trying to warm up, and when Jaime turned back to see her, she was standing beneath the stream of water, smoothing her hair back under it as it cascaded down her alabaster skin. She was glowing, golden and emerald and crimson and rose. Jaime could hardly move as she arched her back, her eyes closed, as the water washed over her face. 

When she stepped out from the stream, the droplets clung to her skin and her hair. And Jaime could hardly blame them; he wanted to cling to her too. 

She fluttered her lashes, and looked up at him, a soft smile on her lips.  “Coming?” She asked as she reached for the shampoo. 

Jaime wasted not another second. He hurried to join her under the stream, trying to remember the last time they’d showered together. It had been years so it seemed.  Cersei began to shampoo her hair, but Jaime stilled her wrists. 

“Let me.” He said softly. 

He worked his fingers through her hair and over her scalp, the suds dripping down her neck and tantalizingly over the rest of her body. Cersei kept her eyes closed and her head tilted back, so Jaime leaned in and kissed her neck before whispering, “Ok.” And letting her step back into the stream to rinse while he got started on his own hair.  Cersei took over when she’d finished herself, and Jaime reveled in the feel of her fingers on his scalp, closing his eyes as she had and just feeling her there with him. It was so very peaceful. 

When Cersei had finished, she kissed the center of his chest, and walked him back under the stream, where she hugged him, her cheek against his chest, as he rinsed his hair.  Jaime kept one arm around her to hold her there the whole while. They did the same thing to condition; Jaime didn’t usually condition his hair, but he wanted this to last as long as possible. 

And then Cersei began to wash her body with the bar of soap he had there, but Jaime stopped her again. He wanted to be the one to wash her.  He took the soap from her and copied her motions, smoothing it over her in little circles, watching as the little bubbles appeared across her. He took particular care in rubbing the soap over her breasts, admiring the way it made them shimmer in the light. He set the soap down then and brought his hands there, unable to resist the urge. And Cersei seemed happy about it, the way she arched into him. He played with her nipples, smoothed his palm over her breast, ran it across her abdomen, over her hip, all while she began to use the soap on him.

When they were each covered, he pressed against her, and the slick feel of their bodies together made her sigh.  Jaime hummed, his chin resting on her shoulder and he ran a hand down her back and over her bottom, and then looped it around to her hip and then lower, gently trailing his fingers through the soft hair over her mound, and down lower, still to touch her as he moved them back a step so they were under the stream. 

“Oh.” Cersei breathed, her hands on his biceps. 

He teased her clit, drawing gentle circles as the water thrummed over their skin. 

“Jaime.” She sighed, her eyes closed now.

He moaned softly at the sound of his name. He loved when she said it that way. 

He pressed her back against the wall of the shower and kissed her roughly, sucking on her lower lip and then pulling at it with his teeth, only to press back against her to find she’d parted her lips for him, allowing their tongues to press together once more.  They moaned together and Cersei opened her legs slightly more, spurring Jaime on. He began touching her more urgently, feeling the slick wetness that began to appear there. 

He had one hand tangled in the wet locks of her hair now, pulling slightly as he kissed her. She enjoyed the cool of the tile on her back and how it contrasted with the heat of her brother against her front. 

Cersei leaned her weight on the wall, which gave her enough balance to hook a leg around one of Jaime’s thighs.  He smiled against her lips, knowing it meant she wanted _more,_ and he moved his lips to her neck, sucking and nipping and licking his way to the little spot just under her ear. She moaned and raked her nails down his back, sending shivers down his spine. He was hard again, and he ached for her. 

Jaime was almost frustrated that he’d started this in the shower, where they had limited mobility, but there was just something so _hot_ about being so _wet._

“I can’t... Jaime...” Cersei whined, needing more. 

Jaime nodded. He held her hip with one hand, and reached behind her with the other, finding her entrance and teasing her for a moment before pressing inside.  She moaned deeply and Jaime leaned in to suckle at a breast, forcing another moan, and then one from him as well as he felt her wetness. 

She gripped his wet hair, rocking her hips against his hand, panting and trying to keep herself from trembling so she wouldn’t lose her balance. 

“Jaime… Jaime. Jaime.” She panted along with each thrust of his fingers. She pulled him closer. “Please, Jaime.”  She moaned and he pressed his lips against hers as she did it, muffling the sound.  She reached down between them and touched him, making him gasp, and pull away from her lips. He’d been so enamoured with her that he hadn’t noticed how aroused he’d gotten.

“I need you.” She said, her hand working over him in such a way that he almost felt dizzy. 

He dropped to his knees, and spread her legs, pressing his tongue to her cunt, tasting her and moaning as he did so.  Cersei gasped, and then fell to her knees to join him. 

“I can’t Jaime, please, I need you. I need you.” Her voice was desperate as she reached for him. Jaime grunted at her words, allowing her to hold his neck as he lay her gently on the floor of the shower, the water tickling his back where it rushed over him. 

She pulled his head down so they were cheek to cheek, and held the back of his head with both her hands.  “I need to feel you inside of me, Jaime.” She said lowly, letting each word roll languidly off her tongue as her teeth grazed his ear. 

He turned his face against her, pressing into her wet hair, filling his senses with her, grunting as he pressed himself into her. 

“Ah.” She sighed almost in relief when he was buried inside her. 

She kept one hand on the back of his head. And one went to his arm, holding him tightly. 

“Yeah.” He whispered, enjoying her grip on him. He wanted her to leave bruises there to match her own. It was only fair that he should have them too.  He kissed her again, tasting her sweet lips before he began rocking into her. She fit around him so perfectly it made him lose his breath each time. 

She moved along with him, her legs wrapped around him, pressing him into her as far as he could possibly go.  She arched her back, pleasure coursing through her like little bolts of lightning with each movement.  He brought his lips to her neck and she sighed breathily.  They moved like that until Jaime felt her begin to grind harder against him, her legs even tighter around him. 

“Harder, Jaime.” She begged him, her hand tightening on his arm, making him whimper. He nodded and moved with greater urgency, angling himself until he hit that spot and then she was mewling and bucking against him.  He held the back of her head the whole while, afraid she would accidentally hit it on the porcelain. 

Her body shimmered in the light, her hair was golden still, but slightly darker with the weight of the water added to it, and it spread out in the water that collected on the floor of the shower, turning to little strands of silk in his hands as she leaned back. 

Her nipples, from what he could manage to see were still hard, red and slightly swollen from the way he’d sucked them.  The water collected in the little divot at the base of her neck, and would run over and between her breasts every so often as she rocked into him. 

Cersei had kept her eyes mostly closed, wanting only to feel her brother inside of her. But there came a point where she opened her eyes just for a moment to look upon him, and he was so beautiful as he moved over her that she could have cried.  His hair was dirty blonde, damp, instead of wet, now. And the muscles of his right arm, were flexed as he held himself up to look at her. She ran a hand down his chest, feeling even more muscle between them. The light shone over his head like a halo and his eyes were gentle and loving, the softest part of him.  The water was shining on him as well, little beads of it on his deltoids, his collar.  And all of this coupled with the way he felt inside of her, filling up every last empty space of her was so much more than she could ever have hoped for.  She pulled him down then until he was flush against her, his arm no longer keeping his lovely weight off her. She hooked both of her arms under his and held him as tightly as she could, enjoying the moan it drew from him. 

He moved faster now, feeling himself approaching the edge. 

“Yes, Oh, Jaime. Yes, yes.” She panted, unaware that she saying anything at all. It was just too good. She forgot that feelings aside from this one existed, even. 

They were one there, on the floor of the shower with the water pulsing over them. They had turned into one being and they could do nothing now but revel in the sublime feeling of it. Everything else around them had ceased to exist. 

And then Jaime heard his sister, “I love you, I love you, oh! Oh, Jaime, I love you.” She cried as she reached her climax and began to tremble against him, squeezing him inside of her, forcing him to press his face against his neck as he came along with her. They writhed against each other, eyes closed once more in rapture. 

And slowly, they began to come down, feeling the tile beneath them, the water above them. The world starting filling itself back in, and they were empty again in all those spaces without the other. Jaime lay on Cersei’s chest, his cheek just above her right breast as he caught his breath, and she stroked his hair. 

“I love you too.” He huffed.” Turning his head and kissing the swell of her skin just under him, a hand on her hip. 

The water had started to run cold, and Jaime pushed himself up, helping her up along after him and then shutting the shower off. 

Cersei was still shaking such that she could hardly walk, and Jaime held both of her hands to help her out of the shower. He wrapped her in a towel then, and did the same for himself while she wrung her hair out. They were both too spent to do anything other than think of how perfect they had been together. They made their way slowly from the bathroom, shedding their towels and collapsing naked onto Jaime’s bed. Cersei turned and curled against him, and he helped her under the covers before wrapping his arms around her and kissing her temple. 

There was nothing more to say. Everything was just as it should always be in that moment. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Next chapter will be the last :) Hoping to have it by tomorrow but don't hold me to that, sorry!


	13. A Million Times Over

The next day was New Year’s Eve. Cersei woke early to sneak back to her room before Robert had woken up.

She thought she'd woken quietly, but as she'd turned over to get out of bed, she felt Jaime's warm hands on her, wrapping around her stomach and pulling her back toward him, his palm flat, fingers spread, touching as much of her as he could, nuzzling her neck and pressing against her, spooning her.  She trailed her fingers gently over his forearms, tracing the veins that bulged slightly. She loved the way they felt. She loved the way he felt. 

"I have to go." She whispered.

Jaime grunted, but didn't release her. Instead, he began to pull his fingers in and then splay them out on her stomach, the way she'd always made him do when she was pregnant. 

She couldn't help the satisfied sigh that slipped from her, emboldening him so that he held her tighter. 

The sun had begun to peek over the mountain, and Cersei could see the red ring of it shining through the curtains drawn over the balcony doors.  She wished for more time. 

Jaime's lips were on her neck, his nose in her hair.  "Stay." He breathed against her, leaving little butterfly kisses as he followed the line of her heartbeat. 

Cersei closed her eyes, purring, ignoring reality for a moment longer. 

"Mmh." Jaime hummed in response. 

One hand travelled up to her breast and held her there, a warm caress over her, while the hand on her stomach continued to smooth over her there.  He continued kissing her off and on, and she felt him suddenly, hard against her ass. 

"Jaime." She warned, her hand moving back to grip his thigh, not wanting him to get his hopes up. 

"I know." He whispered against her ear. "I just want to hold you a little longer.” And he sighed deeply. “Since I can’t kiss you at midnight tonight.” 

He nuzzled her cheek and kissed her there.  Cersei half laughed and half sighed, wishing they could have more.  She turned in his arms, glancing down at his hard member between them. 

"I'm sorry." Jaime whispered, his eyes open now, looking down at her sleepily, sadly. 

Cersei stroked his cheek, enjoying the feel of his stubble against her.  "It's ok." She whispered, kissing his jaw. "I like it." 

A smile spread across Jaime's face, his eyes bright, and Cersei smiled back. She'd known that would make him feel better. 

He stilled her hand as it stroked his cheek and he held it in his hand, leaning down and kissing her lips, his tongue brushing across them until she parted them and they could be closer. He moved his hand to her back, resisting the urge to lift her leg over his. 

They broke apart and lay there for a few more moments before Cersei forced herself to get up, climbing out of his warm embrace. 

"See you soon." She whispered, leaning over him and kissing him once more before leaving.

When she got back to her suite, Robert was snoring loudly from his position face down on the bed. 

Cersei dressed for the day and made her way to her father’s suite where the children slept, knocking softly. Tywin was an earlier riser, always wanting to read the world news or keep up with the stock market before the day began, so Cersei figured he’d be up, and indeed he was. 

He stepped aside and allowed her in without a word. 

“How were they?” She asked in a whisper. 

Tywin nodded. “They’re good.” He said, as if she’d asked how they were in general... how she’d done parenting. It meant something to her, even coming from a man whose parenting she purposefully tried not to replicate. She longed for her father’s approval and she had a moment of realisation that her children likely did the same with their father. 

She opened the door to the children's room as Tywin went back into the living room to read. 

Tommen and Myrcella slept together, as usual and Joffrey had his own bed. 

Cersei tiptoed in and knelt beside Joffrey.  His cheek was squished against the pillow and she couldn’t help smiling as she watched him there, breathing rhythmically. That little face; those long eyelashes and those rosy lips. He was still her baby boy. He would always be her baby boy.  She reached out gingerly, almost hesitating, before giving in and running her fingers through his hair.  He made a soft sound and she pulled back, not wanting to wake him. She watched him for another moment before standing and turning to leave, but she stopped when she heard a sleepy little voice. 

“Mumma?"

It was Tommen. 

Cersei smiled. "Hi, baby." She whispered. 

He reached his arms up for her and she lifted him out of bed and held him against her chest. He was so warm.  He snuggled against her, resting his head on her breast as he'd done since he was a toddler. She carried him out into the living room. 

"Did you have a good rest, love?" She whispered, settling down in an armchair. 

"I had a nightmare, mumma." Tommen said softly. 

She stroked his hair. "What happened?" She asked. 

"There was a monster under my bed and I told daddy but he didn't believe me and I couldn't find you."

She stroked Tommen's whispy hair and kissed the top of his head. "That does sound scary." She said, holding back the sadness that it had brought on suddenly. The world was not as it had been last night. Jaime was not their father. Not in any way that they could ever know. 

"But there's nothing to be scared of, love. Nobody will ever hurt you." Cersei assured him.

Tommen whimpered and held on to her shirt.  Cersei rocked him and stroked his back. 

"Mummy, can I sleep with you tonight?" He asked. 

"Oh, love." She breathed. "Tonight I have to go to a big party so you'll be here with Layla." Layla was the nanny Cersei had hired after careful selection. "But she's very lovely, isn't she?" 

Tommen nodded against her. "And the next night, I promise I'll sleep with you all night, alright? We'll have a sleepover." Tommen nodded again, a small smile on his face.

"Did you wake up grandpa last night when you had a nightmare?" She asked. 

Tommen shook his head. "Myrcella hugged me until I fell back asleep." He said, and Cersei felt her heart soar. 

"She's a good sister." Cersei whispered, her lips against Tommen's hair. 

"She said don't be scared because we're lions." Tommen said, "just like you say." 

"That's right." Cersei nodded, rubbing his back. "Lions are far more fierce than any old monster." She reassured him, kissing his head. 

Cersei waited for the rest of her children to awaken and, once they were all ready, the family met in a private room Tywin had reserved downstairs for brunch.  Cersei sat with her children beside her, Tommen to her right and Myrcella to her left, followed by Joffrey and then Robert.  They'd already ordered their food along with Tywin when Jaime and Tyrion joined them, walking in laughing about something Tyrion had said. 

Cersei couldn't help looking at Jaime as he entered the room. He wore jeans and a navy quarter zip, and his hair was playfully messy, just as it was when she'd left him early that morning. She wished again that they could've had more time. She wished he could have been inside of her again as the sun rose, and then she wished he could have come with her to check on their babies. She knew he would like that just as much as she, but it couldn't be that way. 

James eyes darted over to her as soon as he'd entered, and she enjoyed the way he drank her in, his tongue in his cheek, his mouth slightly open. 

Cersei wore a crimson button up shirt, open slightly at her chest where she wore a golden necklace. She work her shirt tucked into a pair of tight black jeans that hugged her body in all the right ways. On her feet, she wore black pumps.  Her hair was wavy after having not dried it the previous night, and Jaime thought it suited her perfectly. 

Cersei watched her brothers take a seat and place their orders. The group talked and joked about skiing until their food arrived. Jaime sat next to Tommen. He kept stealing Tommen's tater tots from his plate rather obviously and making the boy erupt into giggles each time. Cersei looked on sweetly, adoring their son. 

Finally, Tywin stood to make an announcement. 

"I want to thank you all for a lovely holiday." He said, smiling slightly.  "We've done good work." He held his mimosa up to Jaime and then to Robert. Cersei couldn't help but feel slightly jealous. She'd had a role, as well. 

"And the children were able to see more of the world. It isn't easy to travel so much and you've all been very mature." He said, toasting the little ones. 

Tommen did a prideful little squirming dance in his seat and Jaime looked upon him adoringly as Cersei watched, proud that Jaime was proud of them, that he loved the little beings they'd made together.

"Tonight will be quite the night, as I expect there to be a number of executives in attendance." He was talking about the New Year party at the resort.  "So here's to finishing strong." He said, toasting them, and they all joined in.

* * *

The children went skiing again that afternoon, while Robert, Jaime and Tywin had a meeting to cover their bases before the party. 

Cersei and Tyrion were in the suite as well, though they sat in another room, Cersei by the window, watching the children outside. 

"What were you trying to pull last night?" Tyrion asked. 

Cersei forced herself to look away for a moment, turning to face her brother. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Cersei said, narrowing her eyes at him. “I was just trying to get Robert to stop teasing Jaime.”

Tyrion nodded, smirking as Cersei rolled her eyes and turned and went back to watching her children. 

“Any interesting cases come your way lately?” Tyrion asked his sister. 

Cersei shrugged. She hadn’t much thought about her practice since she’d been away. Her subordinates were perfectly capable of managing things themselves, and she wanted to be more present with the children while she had the chance. Plus, this was as close as she’d been to Lioncorp since she could remember. She wanted to offer as much of herself as she could to impress her father into letting her have a role. She’d done a good job of it in Berlin, and she hoped to speak to her father today about joining the team, even part-time to start. She had a lot to offer. 

“Any interesting stories come _your_ way?” Cersei asked him. 

Tyrion was a journalist for King’s Landing’s largest newspaper, The Crown. Unlike Cersei, he wanted little to do with Lioncorp, which suited the situation just fine because Tywin never would’ve allowed it anyhow, saying something along the lines of Tyrion not aligning with the company's _image_. 

He shrugged. “Not particularly.” 

They sat there in silence for a beat before Tyrion piped up. “Oh! But there was this-“

“Cersei!” Tywin called into them, interrupting. 

Cersei perked up. She could count on one had time times her father had called for her.  Tyrion sent her a warning glance. _Don’t get your hopes up._ But Cersei disregarded it and poked her head into the living area where the three men had set up shop, their laptops and papers scattered about. 

“Mh?” She inquired, trying not to appear too eager. 

Robert sat with his legs spread on the couch, leaned over his computer. Tywin was stroking his short beard, staring off at a wall, and Jaime sat there on the couch, one leg pulled up, his ankle resting on his knee, arms up, hands on the back of his head. He looked up at Cersei, smiling. 

“Robert said you spoke with Mr. Keller on Christmas in Copenhagen.” Tywin said, looking up at her, finally. 

Cersei nodded slowly, trying to recall the conversation. 

“Took a bit of a liking to you, it seems.” Tywin said, almost scowling. 

“Did he?” Cersei asked, ignoring her father’s expression. 

Tywin sighed. “You spoke with him about trademarking his I.P..” 

Cersei nodded slowly, her fingertips brushing her lips. 

“He seems to think it’s a real possibility from the email he just sent me. Said you thought you could help him do it.” 

Cersei nodded. “I can.” Jaime’s smile grew at the confidence in Cersei’s voice, unwavering, as per usual. 

“Well.” Tywin said. “It’s quite an endeavour and I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up but-.” 

Cersei cocked her head. “But I absolutely can.” Cersei said, making sure her father understood.  Cersei hid a smile of her own as the look in Jaime’s eyes changed from pride to desire. He licked his lips and sat forward with a sigh. 

“Well, I think we’re set on that front then.” He said, rubbing his hands together. 

Cersei cocked her head. “So you want me to…” 

Tywin sighed deeply. “Yes. I want you to speak with him again. I do not want you to tell him that _you_ can help him. I want you to tell him that _we_ can help him. My motive is not to get him to buy into the idea of a business lawyer, it’s to get him to buy into _Lioncorp_ , do you understand? I want him to see us as a whole. We’re an investment company not a bloody law firm.” 

Cersei nodded slowly, realising that her father was upset that _she’d_ impressed the man as opposed to one of _them_. 

“Father, perhaps it would be easier to see us as a whole if we were actually _whole._ ” Jaime offered, suggesting that it might be a wise idea to allow Cersei into the business, since she’d proven herself more than useful. 

Robert snorted, and Jaime eyed him hatefully.  Cersei bit the inside of her cheek, waiting for Tywin’s reaction. 

He cracked his knuckles and cleared his throat. “Your sister and I have discussed this.” Tywin said, looking up at Cersei with his cool blue eyes.

Cersei felt her hopes plummet. Tyrion had been right. She gave her father a curt nod, understanding now that he might never change his mind. She stood there for a moment longer contemplating this, before Tywin spoke again. 

“Thank you.” He said to her. “You may leave.” 

But Cersei knew it wasn’t an offer. It was a demand. She was not to be a part of their strategising.

Tyrion eyed her pitifully when she returned to their little sunroom, and Cersei rolled her eyes at him again. “Shut up.” She muttered, taking her place by the window to watch her children again.

* * *

When the night rolled around, Cersei had brought the children to Tywin’s suite again, where everyone was meeting. She’d already gotten changed into a beautiful golden silk gown, that hugged her hips and then flowed out a bit. The skirt of it was ribbed, and up top her chest was covered with two sashes that ran around her back, leaving a small triangle of skin at her sternum, and most of her back exposed.  She wore a necklace, a simple golden chain with a coin at the centre; antique currency from King’s Landing turned jewelry.  Her hair was  down, wavy locks cascading over her shoulders, the spaghetti straps of her dress, golden to match everything else about her. 

When Jaime saw her walk into Tywin’s apartment, he literally thought his heart had stopped.  He was having a drink of champagne and he choked on it, pounding his chest and coughing as Tyrion looked up at him confused, but when he turned to see Cersei standing in the doorway, he rolled his eyes. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He muttered at Jaime’s reaction, elbowing his brother in the thigh as he walked off to refresh his drink. 

Jaime collected himself and straightened up, pulling his suit jacket back into place. He wore a velvety black suit, white undershirt, with a black bowtie. He’d combed his hair, but hadn’t, to Cersei’s delight when she saw him, slicked it back the way Robert had. She loved Jaime’s hair, and she especially loved when it was a bit longer, as it was now - little pieces of it hanging just over his forehead, and the texture of it in the back, she couldn’t help but think of the way it had felt between her fingers, in her fists, just the night before as she’d grasped on to it, trying to still her writhing at the feel of him. 

She wanted to feel him again now. She wanted to be pressed against him, against his skin. She wanted his lips on her neck and his hands all over her. She was snapped from her thoughts, however, when she heard Robert behind her. 

“Gods sakes, Tommen, we’ve told you this already.” He barked at the boy who burst into sobs. 

Cersei immediately doubled back to lift him into her arms, whispering something into Robert’s ear.  Jaime wished he could’ve heard what it had been. Poison, surely. He’d expect nothing less. 

Cersei rocked the boy until he sobs calmed, stroking his hair and whispering to him.  Myrcella took a seat on the couch beside Jaime. 

“Mummy’s a princess.” She said, turning to her uncle. “And daddy’s a prince, and you’re…” She trailed off, trying to think of something just as flattering to say about her uncle. “You’re a prince too.” She beamed, pleased with her problem-solving. 

Jaime ruffled her hair. “Thanks, Cells.” He said. “I think your mummy has us beat, though. She’s more than a princess, don’t you think?”  
Myrcella took a moment, contemplating it, and then nodded. “A queen.” She said, smiling. 

Jaime nodded. “I think so.” 

The little girl’s eyes lit up and she clapped her hands. “That means I get to be a princess!” She said. 

Jaime chuckled. “That’s what I’ve been telling you all along.” He teased, pulling her into his lap and tickling her. She squealed and squirmed against him, giggling until she was out of breath and Jaime let her go. 

“Alright!” Tywin boomed over them. “Ten minutes.” 

Jaime rolled his eyes. Gods, he surely was taking this seriously. He tipped his drink up and drained it. 

“Mummy.” Myrcella had approached her mother, pulling gently on her dress as she still carried Tommen about. “I want you to tuck us in.” 

Cersei nodded. “Of course.” She said. 

The lot of them made their way into the bedroom that the children were staying in. It was half past nine, and far past Tommen’s bedtime. Joffrey joined them as well, after his mother said she’d allow him to stay up a while and play video games in bed.  
“Mummy, does midnight happen _every_ night?” Tommen asked as Cersei held him.

Jaime who'd been sat just outside the door, stood and peeked in as Cersei held the boy on her waist, smoothing his hair back. 

“Every night love, yes.” She told him. 

Tommen chewed his lip, deep in thought.  “Why is midnight tonight special?” He asked. 

Jaime stood in the doorway now, his arms crossed over his chest. Myrcella looked up at him and he winked at her. She just smiled back. 

Cersei had explained this to Tommen at least a dozen times but the sweet boy just didn’t understand it, so she decided to try and explain it a different way.

“New year,” She began, rocking him back and forth as she sat on the edge of the mattress by Myrcella’s legs and directly across from Joffrey, “Is when people celebrate the end of one thing and the beginning of another.” She smiled. 

Tommen watched his mother intently, as though she were telling him all the secrets to life.  Jaime smiled shyly. He watched her the same way, sometimes.  Even Joffrey was watching her now. 

“So tomorrow…” Cersei continued, leaning over slightly to cup Joffrey’s chin in her hand.  “Tomorrow, my love, is a fresh start.” Her voice was hushed as if she _were_ telling them a secret. 

Joffrey looked up at her and then down at his hands, his face reddening, but Cersei just stroked her thumb over his cheek and kissed the top of his head, before moving to Myrcella. 

“Sometimes, it’s nice to know that, even though bad things might happen, we can start over. We can try again.” 

The children were utterly silent, tracking her movements as she swayed Tommen, who’d rested his head on her shoulder now, his little hands on her neck, feeling her heartbeat.

She ran her hand soothingly over his back. “Does that help, my love?” She asked him.

Tommen nodded gently, and yawned. 

“Good.” Cersei whispered, kissing him and then standing, running her hand through Joffrey’s hair and and turning around to walk to the other side of the bed to get Joffrey settled.  She paused for a moment when she saw Jaime in the doorway, but he simply smiled at her. He wanted nothing but to watch on, to be a part of this as much as he was allowed to be. 

She settled Tommen in bed and gave him his stuffed lion to curl around, and Jaime listened closely as she knelt to speak to him. 

“I love you, baby boy,” She whispered. “And next year I bet you’re going to be even more brave than you were this year. “I’m so proud of you my little cub.”  She tickled him gently and he squirmed, smiling sleepily and closing his eyes as she kissed his head. 

Jaime swallowed hard as he watched her move on to Myrcella. 

“And I love you, my sweet girl.” Cersei said, kissing Myrcella’s forehead and smoothing her hair back. “Next year, I bet you’re going to be even fiercer than you were this year. I’m so proud of you, my little cub.” She kissed her once more and Myrcella closed her eyes, smiling. 

And then Cersei turned to Joffrey, and Jaime held his breath. She knelt by his bedside, but didn’t reach out to touch him. The boy held his phone in his hand, and Jaime was half afraid he’d pick it up and ignore her, but he didn’t. 

“I know you’re a good boy.” She whispered to him, and Joffrey’s face turned red. “You’re a good boy.” She repeated, stroking his cheek, “And I don’t ever want you to think otherwise.” 

Joffrey nodded slightly. 

“Next year…” Cersei said, and Jaime recognised the little falter in her voice, the one she had when she was feeling a little _too_ much, and he smiled, wishing he could hold her. 

“Next year I bet you’re going to be my sweet boy again.” She finished.

Joffrey’s lip quivered, but he didn’t break. He refused to.

She stroked his hair and gazed up at him. “You’ll always be my little cub, too.” She whispered. “And I am proud of you, my love.” She held his cheek now. “I am.” She nodded. 

And then, before she let herself get too worked up, she stood and kissed his head before turning and making her way quietly from the room, shutting the light off and closing the door softly behind her. 

She turned to Jaime and stepped into his open arms them, allowing him to hold her despite the fact that their family was in the next room.  She clutched the back of his suit jacket and held her tightly, about to say something when they heard Tywin yelling in the other room;

“Let’s go!”

* * *

The party was as opulent as any they'd attended (and they'd attended quite a few), with seemingly hundreds of tables covered in cloth as white as the snow that covered the mountains just outside. Jaime glanced about the room. It seemed everything was bathed in gold; the walls, the trim, the chandeliers with their dancing crystals, and most especially, his lovely sister.  As Jaime sat across from her at their table, he couldn't help admiring the way the lights twinkled in her eyes. 

They were served three courses, and they each made small talk with the men they shared the table with. 

Robert and Cersei were deep in conversation with a man from Russia, and Jaime was distracted as he watched his brother in law's hand on Cersei's arm. He held her there like he bloody _owned_ her and he hated it. She must've covered up her bruises with makeup, Jaime thought to himself as he scanned her arm for the marks.

After dinner, Jaime was leaned back in his chair, smiling as he listened to Tyrion’s occasional sarcastic comments directed at Robert, and, every so often, Cersei was there to play off of them. Tyrion would set her up and she'd spike, or vice versa, each of them joined in their shared hatred of the buffoon. And Jaime, who hated Robert just as much, was all too happy to drink it in. They were a masterclass on insults. None of which were heard by Robert, of course, who was far too busy buttering up some potential new client.

It wasn’t long before Cersei was pulled from the table by Mr. Keller. Tywin eyed her intensely as she walked away, almost threatening her with his gaze.  But Cersei was untroubled by all of it. She knew she was good at what she did, and nobody would represent the family name better than she. 

She gave a hard sell, talking of all Lioncorp's many partners and the breadth of influence that they had in the field of national and international business.  "There simply isn't anyone who could offer you more." She said, eyes gleaming. "That's really what it all boils down to. There just simply isn't." 

They were standing in the hallway above the Great hall, overlooking the crowd below. A deep red carpet covered the floor beneath their feet, and the vaulted ceilings providing a home for the smaller chandeliers that hung overhead. 

Mr. Keller couldn't have been too much older than Cersei, though his hair was flecked with grey. His brown eyes were friendly, and his smile was nearly as charming as Jaime's, Cersei thought.

"Listen." The man said, flashing that lovely smile to reveal his teeth, just as lovely and brilliant. "I do appreciate what you're doing, and I understand that you have your famiy's best interests in mind. I respect that." He leaned on the railing. "But actually, I'm not interested in Lioncorp." 

Cersei tried to hide her disappointinment. Father would be displeased." 

"I'm interested in _you_." He told her. 

She must've looked confused because the man laughed. 

"Look, I like what you have to say and how you say it, Mrs. Boratheon." Cersei nearly shuddered at the name. "And I do my research. I've seen what you've done. I've seen what you've pulled off in a courtroom. It's.... Well, nothing short of remarkable. And truthfully, when I heard you weren't working for Lioncorp I couldn't believe it. I mean... We would be _honoured_ to have you on our team at Sparrow's Nest. And I don't expect an answer right now, I want you to think it over, of course, but we... Cersei," she smiled at his use of her first name now. "We could do some really exceptional things with you at the helm of our legal team."

Cersei chewed on her lip. This would be an interesting opportunity for sure, a way to break out into more international law and make an even bigger name for herself in the legal world. The offer was tempting."

"Look, hey." The man laughed. "Nothing needs to be decided right now. Think on it, yes?"

Cersei nodded. "I will." 

"Good." He said. "Do you have a card?"

Cersei liked the fact that he wanted to call _her_ instead of vice versa. She handed him one.

"Then we'll be in touch. A pleasure doing business with you Cersei." Mr. Keller said, sticking out his hand.

Cersei shook it firmly. 

"They're lucky you're part of the family." He laughed as he walked away, waving behind him. 

Cersei leaned against the railing of the balcony now and wondered what father would say when she told him. Perhaps he would understand what he was passing up by ignoring her prowess in her field. Then again, perhaps he would just be angered. 

She sighed. Should she tell him at all?

She was tempted by the offer, but nothing could compare to her desire to be a part of her family's business. There had to be a breaking point though, no? How much longer was she going to put up with the disrespect? The belittlement?"

She made her way back to the table, where Tywin was busy speaking to someone.  The music had started and people were swaying on the dance floor. 

"Come dance." It wasn't a question.  Robert pulled her by her arm.

On the floor, Robert's hands held her clumsily at her hips, and she placed her hands reluctantly on his shoulders. 

"Well?" He asked gruffly. 

Cersei wasn't sure what to tell him. "He wants to speak again later." She lied, delaying giving an answer.

"Ugh." Robert huffed. "Bloody ridiculous. What is he afraid of? The real execs? He does know you're not even on our payroll?"

Cersei ignored him as they faked their affections for the crowd.  Robert stepped on her toes and Cersei bit back the poison that had begun to accumulate on her tongue. 

"Fucking Jaime can't fucking hold a conversation, either, he's bloody useless tonight. This is all _fucked_." He was gripping her waist a little too tightly. 

"Robert." She shifted uncomfortably, lowering one of his arms to his wrist to adjust his grip on her. 

"I just don't have time for this idiocy. What is this, a bloody beauty pageant? I have to dance with you to show people I can do my job?"

"It's _appearances,_ Robert." She hissed. "Just like everything else. Just like the Christmas parade, and the way my father pretended this holiday wasn’t a glorified business trip, and our bloody marriage." 

Robert's grip was unforgiving now, and Cersei could hardly stand it, but she would not falter now. She stared him straight in the eye. 

"Tell me otherwise then, if you disagree." She challenged. 

Robert gritted his teeth. "This is not the time." 

"Why?" She asked. "You're as sick of this performance as I." 

He shook his head. "We need each other. Don't pretend we don't." 

" _I_ haven't needed you for a single _second_." She growled. "My _father_ needs you, and _you_ need him and I'm here conveniently to secure that partnership for the both of you." Her nails dug into his shoulders, trying to inflict some of the same pain he was causing her back onto him. 

Robert was silent and Cersei laughed then. 

"And here we are, so many new years later." 

Robert bit his lip. 

"But tonight we start anew." She chuckled, sounding giddy for a moment. "That's what I told the children. _My_ children." 

" _Our_ children." He implored. 

"Mmh. Isn't that the best performance of them all.” She said. 

Robert narrowed his eyes at her. 

"Do you truly believe you've been a father to them?" She asked, almost pitying him that he thought that was what fatherhood looked like. “Really, Robert, do you? In any capacity?”

"I show them how to get what they want.” He fumed, jerking her a bit. 

She didn't flinch. 

"And where has that gotten them?" She asked. "Joff acts out the same way you do, like a bloody _coward."_

Robert's face turned red with rage. 

"Only Joff..." She laughed breathily. "Joffrey's just a child. A child with a coward for a father.” She hissed through gritted teeth, staring him down. "What's your excuse?"

Robert's nails were digging into her. There would be marks, but Cersei hardly felt anything now, numbed by the rage that ran through her. 

"I swear it to the Gods, woman." Robert snarled, "I will make you regret saying that. I’ll show you just how bloody _cowardly_ I can be.” 

But Cersei just stared at him defiantly. "I look forward to seeing you try." She said calmly, before shaking herself free from his grasp and turning on her heels. Fuck the performance. She grabbed a flute of champagne as she hurried off to find a room where she could hide out alone for a while. She needed time to think on what she was going to tell her father.

* * *

Cersei ended up in a gorgeous room just off of the hall. One of the walls was made completely of beautiful antique glass windows, swooping down from the ceiling and continuing all the way down to the ground, black panes holding them together.  Cersei walked toward them, her hand coming up to touch the glass. She could feel how cold it was outside. She looked up at the sky above her then, studying the stars, looking for Leo and thinking of her mother. _What do I do?_ She asked silently. 

_ Ugh. Why was Leo always so bloody hard to find? _

Cersei sighed annoyedly and kicked the glass, sending a strange thrumming echo across the room.

“It’s there.” Came a voice from the corner. 

Cersei whipped around to see Jaime sitting on a velvet sofa in the back of the room against the wall. 

Jaime had tired of the party, as he so often did, and when he’d seen Robert and Cersei dancing, he’d decided that was his cue to leave. Sometimes it pained him to see Robert doing those things with her - those things that he could never do with her in public. He’d come here for a little respite, and when she’d barged in, she’d been so distracted that he decided to see how long it would take her before she realised he was there, but he couldn’t watch her struggle any longer. 

She just stood there for a moment, not having expected to see him here.  He got to his feet and went to her slowly, standing beside her and lifting his arm, index finger pointed at the sky. 

“There.” He said, gently.

Cersei looked up, but was silent. She still couldn’t see it. She huffed, growing irritated.  Jaime moved behind her and wrapped an arm around her, right hand splayed on her stomach. 

“Lean back.” He advised her. 

She did, tilting her head until it rested on his shoulder. He lifted his left arm then, pointing up at the constellation. 

“There.” He whispered, hoping it was a bit clearer for her this time. 

He waited a moment before he heard her exhale in relief, her body relaxing a bit. She’d found it. 

She rolled her head to this side, her nose just grazing his neck. He could smell her shampoo. He turned his face toward her leaning down until he could feel the warmth of her skin radiating off of her.  His left arm was wrapped around her side, holding her there against him.  She sighed again, and Jaime felt her breath on his neck this time. It was shaky, and that made Jaime nervous. 

“Hey.” He whispered. “I have-” 

But Cersei turned in his arms and hugged him tightly, taking his breath from him before he could finish.

His arms were back around her in an instant, holding her, running over the skin of her back that her dress left exposed. He pressed his cheek to her forehead. 

“Thank you for my babies, Jaime.” She whispered against him. “ _Our_ babies. Thank you.” 

Jaime leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. 

“You did all the hard parts, Cersei." He smiled. "But I would do it all over again.” He whispered. 

“Would you?” She asked, even though she was sure that he would. He’d never made her think otherwise. Not once.

Jaime’s hands were on her cheeks then, tilting her face up to his and then pressing his lips to hers in a kiss so gentle Cersei just barely felt the brush of them against her. 

“Let me show you something.” Jaime whispered, making Cersei shiver. 

He brought a hand to her hair, running his fingers through it before pulling back, reaching into the pocket of his jacket and pulling out the jewelry box he’d tried to give her on Christmas. 

“I’m sorry I messed this up before.” He whispered, placing it in her hands. 

He watched eagerly, as she stroked her delicate fingers through the velvet, looking up at him. He smiled, assuredly, and she looked back down at the box, opening it slowly.  When she saw the contents, her eyes grew wide, and Jaime’s smile followed suit. He would do anything to see her smile that way again. It made his heart thrum in his chest. 

“Jaime.” She breathed, her eyes still fixed on the box as her fingers came up to gently touch its contents. 

“You can touch it.” He laughed, then. “You won’t brake it. I had them make sure it was sturdy.” 

“Jaime…” 

It was their mother’s necklace; the one with the little golden lions, rubies for eyes, the one that Cersei had so treasured before it had been broken in her fight with Robert so many years ago on that night that she’d asked Jaime if she was worth it. It had sat in her jewelry box at home all those many years. She’d been too ashamed to do anything with it. She felt she didn’t deserve to wear it after what had happened, but Jaime felt otherwise. He  reached into the box and held the necklace in his hands.

“I would do _every_ _single_ _thing_ over with you, Cersei. Over and over, a million times. More, even. Forget about _worth it._ There’s never been _anyone_ but you, Cers. There never will be.”

He reached out and set the necklace on her neck, clasping it in the back and taking a single step back to admire it on her.

Cersei was breathless as she brought her hand to her neck to touch the necklace, swearing she could feel her mother’s warmth on it still. And then she was reaching out for her brother, pulling him down and against her, hugging him as tightly as she possibly could, her hands on the back of his head, stroking through his hair. 

“Jaime?” She whimpered, her cheek pressed against his.

“Mh?” He answered wordlessly, filled with pride that he’d made her so happy. 

“I love you.” She whispered. 

And Jaime smiled. It was his turn to say it now, to be so sure of it; “I know.” 

“Happy new year. I’m sorry we can’t kiss at midnight.” She said, referring to his complaint from that morning. 

Jaime laughed, pulling back only to press his forehead against hers, holding her waist. “Why on earth would we wait for midnight, anyway?”

He leaned in and kissed her firmly on the lips, and she smiled against him, parting hers to allow Jaime’s tongue in. They kissed for a long while, drinking in the familiar taste of each other and wishing the moment could last forever. 

But, alas, it could not.

They had to return to reality, but nothing in the world could change the way they were feeling. And the next day, Cersei boarded the plane home wearing her golden lion necklace, and Jaime boarded wearing a grin worth more than its weight in gold. Their children sat amongst them, and they were all together. They were lucky, they realised, even if things could be hard sometimes. 

Cersei leaned back in her seat. She had much to think about, and it made her uneasy. But as Jaime’s hand slipped into hers between their seats, she knew that whatever she should choose, and wherever life might take her, he would always be right there with her holding her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for reading and for all the comments as they're very helpful!  
> I've really enjoyed writing this, and I'm going to take a quick break to write something a bit sillier, but I hope to continue with another story in this same au very soon!  
> Hope you enjoyed, and thanks again :)


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